


Route 66

by pherryt



Series: Colliding Worlds [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural, Torchwood
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Men of Letters, Strong Language, implied past jack harkness/gabriel, mostly canon compliant, rt 66
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some time after the events in the original story, Dean, Cas and Sam wind up on the case of what they think is a zombie, but is yet another intrusion into their world by certain extra terrestrials.</p><p>Meeting the Doctor, however, never prepared them for Captain Jack Harkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've got a theory, it could be Zombies…

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't meant to start this story.  
> I hadn't meant to even start publishing it before my other WIP was done (but this has been BUGGING me to post, so here it is)
> 
> Like the first story, this chapter _could_ be read as a stand alone, but I am already planning more.
> 
> I do not, at this time, plan to have artwork, though i may change my mind later.  
> *EDIT - I changed my mind. now i'm making something*
> 
> Lastly, I hate coming up with all encompassing titles. This is frustrating!

"So get this…"

Dean groaned and let his head fall to the table, the thunk echoing throughout the library. His husband reached over and patted his shoulder absentmindedly as Sam entered in a rush, his own nose still stuck in a book filled with Enochian Runes.

"Dude…no."

"But Dean…"

"No Sam. Cas and I have plans. Very important plans."

"But –"

"No. Is there actually a case, an honest to Chuck case, or are you just sharing odd trivia you found online again?" Dean raised his head to glare at his brother. Unphased, Sam returned with a bitch face and placed the laptop down in front of Dean and Castiel.

"Look man, I know you guys have an anniversary, but we've gone on less before. And I think it's really up your alley." He reached over and flipped the lid open, tapping a key to wake it up. The screen bloomed to show an article. Against his better judgment, or maybe because of it, Dean quickly scanned the website, Cas leaning against him, his chin propped up on Dean's shoulder so he could read it too.

He had to admit it. Sam was right. Okay, well he wasn't going to admit that out loud. It'd just give Sam a bigger head. He felt a rumble against his back as his husbands deep voice sounded in his ear, warm breath causing a slight shiver and a small grin.

"You want to check it out?"

"Yeah, but Cas…"

"It's okay Dean. It's not actually that far out of the way. We can check it out, determine if there's anything to look into and turn it over to Sam.  Maybe have a backup meet us out there."

"I was thinking of calling Garth."

" _Garth_? Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously.  He's a good hunter Dean."

"He's also a werewolf. And he's been out of the game for a few years now, man."

"So were you once, and me too. And I thought we got over this, this werewolf thing. He's not one of the bad ones Dean, and now he's got better senses and everything. Could be an advantage." Dean dragged a hand down his face before waving it at Sam to continue. "Look, I've been wanting to bring Garth back in for a while. He could be a very valuable resource.  With Garth's help, we can restart the Men of Letters, bring in trusted hunters, train them up. I mean, Garth did a decent job being a liaison the way Bobby was. Man, could you just imagine Bobby in this place? He would have been in Heaven!"

"Get on with it Sam."

"Right, so, yeah, the three of us could cut back on cases. Work only on the special ones, or the 'all hands on deck' ones. It's not like there's a lot of monster activity these days. It's usually ghosts and well, that’s just a cakewalk. We could take the time to train people here as a hub, a network. We could coordinate hunts, take more of a backseat role. I think Garth would be great to add to that. We could ask Cesar or Jessy if they'd be interested in teaching sometimes. It's not often a hunter gets to retire; they could give new hunters a different perspective.  I'd ask Jody or Donna, but they're more hands on and have their hands full right now anyway being sherrifs."

Dean mused over his brothers words. He nodded thoughtfully. "Still, could bring them in for special classes, or use them as a mentoring program. Having a network _would_ be a good idea. Building the hunter network back up would definitely be wise. We've lost too many over the years. Don't forget Eileen either.  So, okay, we'll all go, have Garth meet us there. If there's nothing, you can get a ride back with Garth and we'll head on our way…and if there's something…" he trailed off.

"We'll deal with it as we come to it. If it's something small, we can leave it to Sam and Garth."

"And if it's not…?" Sam asked. Dean snorted.

"The caveat we _should_ be putting out there is "if it _is_ zombies…" instead of if it's big or small or nothing. Cause if it's _zombies_ , I'm so in."

"Dean…" his husband leaned further into his side, his arm reaching around to slide up the arm furthest from him, pulling Dean even closer into him, his voice was chiding.

"But, Cas…zombies…?" Dean said weakly as he turned to face Castiel, their foreheads now touching, breath mingling.

"Your brother can handle it."

"I know but…"

"I don't understand your obsession with zombies." Dean shrugged with a rueful grin.

"To tell the truth, neither do I."

"Right, so I'll just go pack.  You guys are already packed right?" they nodded. "Good, so, why don't you dig into the archives, see if the Men of Letters have anything on zombies."

"Didn't we already do that when we met that Greek guy, uh, Shane?"

"Who? You mean Prometheus?" Sam shrugged. "Well, remember, that was _before_ Charlie helped me setup for computer compatibility and digitizing a lot of the files so we could find things easier. The Men of Letters didn't have very good organization skills."

"Yeah, man, what was up with that anyway? You'd think an organization like this would _be_ organized and shit." Shaking his head, Sam gathered up his laptop.

"Who knows. I'll be right back." He jogged out of the room, laptop tucked up under his arm. Dean stared after him in disbelief.

"Digitized or not, how fast does he think we can search an entire archive?" Dean stood up and made his way over to the bunker computer they had set up as a permanent database. Castiel followed him.

"It is interesting that he thinks we could be ready before he is, when we all know he already has a bag prepared waiting by the door, just like we do." Dean sat, tapping quickly at the keys, Castiel dragging a chair over and pulling a thumb drive out of one of the drawers on the desk in case they found something useful. Typing a few keywords into the search function, Dean and Cas were both amazed at how quickly results came back. Wasting no time, though it still took quite a bit, they downloaded copies of it to the drive and Cas pocketed it, less likely to lose something that small than Dean was.

It didn't take long before the three of them were on the road with Dean driving and Cas riding shotgun, Sam more than willing to spread out in the back with his laptop and other papers. The angel handed back the thumb drive and Sam went to work. It had turned out that the time they had been able to use for research was due to Sam trying to get a hold of Garth and arrange a meet up.

"So tell me about this thing Sammy."

"What more is there to tell, Dean? You read the article."

"Yeah, I know. Multiple reports of the same guy getting killed over and over again, then five minutes later, getting back up and walking away. You think he's another guy Zeus cursed? Or maybe another one of those pagan gods?"

"Who knows Dean. I know you're hoping for zombies…"

"Hell yeah."

"I still don't understand why, Dean."

"Haven't you ever watched zombie movies Cas? They're classic!"

"You know I have not."

"Well, we'll just have to change that." Sam started fake gagging as he was forced to witness the sappy, fond looks being exchanged between his brother and the angel.

"Eyes on the frickin' road Dean."

"Shut up Samantha. I'm not gonna hurt my baby." He patted the dash comfortingly as Castiel looked on in amusement.

"I was thinking more of us."

"It's okay Sam, I can heal us if necessary."

"That's not the point, Cas. I'd rather it _not_ be necessary."

"Okay, but what if it's not a curse? What else could it be?"

"I dunno, maybe a Revenant or a Neamh Mairbh, or even an [Aptrgangr](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aptrgangr)."

"Aren't those just  fancy names for a zombie?" Sam rolled his eyes even though his brother couldn't see him.

"Sure Dean, whatever. Can I continue?"

"If I understand your use of the definition of a zombie correctly, a zombie is a creature whose corpse has risen from the dead but can still be killed. There are several different types of zombies in the world, but all of them have violent and cannibalistic tendencies. But the thing in the article is clearly a man who can pass for human, and keeps coming back despite having been killed. And other than his own mysterious deaths, there are no fatalities surrounding the man. I don't think it's a zombie, Dean."

"Way to crush my hopes man. Do you see me crushing your hopes?"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic."

" _Shut up_ , Samantha."

"Cut it out Dean. How many times do I have to tell you, it's Sam." Sam leaned forward and smacked his brother on the back of his head in his annoyance.

"Quit it."

"Make me."

"I'll pull this car over." Dean warned, causing Sam to laugh.

"Dude, I can't believe you just said that. Not even _Dad_ said that!"

"Yeah he did…" Dean pointed out, "Back when Anna tried to kill him and mom. Don't you remember?" Sam got quiet. Castiel reached across the seat to take Deans hand in commiseration. It'd been a horrible event, one of the turning points in their mutual realizations of just how screwed they all really were. Not that they had given up. Not yet. Each one of them had their breaking points, their moments of pure despair, but with support and a hell of a lot of stubbornness, they'd gotten through it.

"Oh yeah." The tense silence was broken by Sam's phone and he fumbled to snag it out of his jacket pocket. "Hey Garth. Wait, wait, what was that? Our zombie has struck again? Yeah, no I know, bad choice of words. Where'd they find him this time? Next town over, huh? And uh, how did he…? Oh, is that right? Yeah, I have a map right here. It looks like he's following the old Rt 66 and he's…heading our way. We should intercept him in a few hours the way Dean drives. We've already been on the road about half a day. Did anyone get a picture of this guy yet? Great, just text me with it okay? Great Garth, thanks. See you there."

"Okay, that sounded mildly interesting Sammy. How'd he bite it?" A chime came through, the picture Garth had promised, no doubt.

"Apparently, he was hit by a car in what became a hit and run while police were on a high speed pursuit of some bank robber. When the ambulance showed up, the guy was already gone." Dean whistled.

"What other ways has this guy died?"

"Well, in the town before that, he was found fried extra crispy when a night club burnt down around him. Brought to the morgue, gone the next morning. Security tapes showed him just standing up and walking out.  Reports of theft came in later from a local thrift shop."

"Well, naked guy walking around, needed some threads or he'd draw attention to himself Sammy."

"Is that where Garth got his picture?" Castiel cut in.

"Yeah. Handsome devil too…and not a single scar on the guy."

"Well, of course not. He keeps coming back to life so his wounds are healing. He's like, a real life Wolverine."

"Let's hope he doesn’t have his own adamantium skeleton."

"Heh, good one Cas." Dean looked at him proudly, then his jaw dropped as another thought occurred to him and he attempted to look at his brother through the rearview mirror. "Dude…did Garth send you a nude?"

"Yeah, he didn't bother to crop it or anything. Full frontal and everything. Dean, the guy didn't even hide from the camera, he just _winked_ at it!" Dean started laughing at his brothers' disgruntled voice.

"Oh man, that's great. I'm gonna have to congratulate Garth."

Switching off with Castiel for a short time, the three of them made it to town by midnight and immediately booked a room at the cheapest motel and crashed for the night, but not after ribbing the décor.

"Dude, it's like someone decorated with what they _thought_ the ocean looked like." Dean dropped his duffel next to the entrance and waved at Sam before shutting the door.

"They were very creative. They should be commended." Dean snickered at Cas's comment.

"They should be taken out back and shot for this travesty."

"Dean, you don't mean that."

"No, I don't. Let's get some sleep."

The next morning started all too early for Dean as he heard pounding on his door. He groaned and burrowed into the warmth beside him. The warmth moved and he groaned again, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Dean, Garth is here."

"Screw Garth, I'm sleeping."

"I'd rather not, actually."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." Suddenly the warmth beside him disappeared and with a floomph, Dean sank into the now empty space. Another whoosh of feathers announced the angels return and he rolled over to glare through barely open eyes.

"What the hell Cas?"

"Coffee." Cas held a tray of Styrofoam cups from Dunkin' Donuts. "I know it's not as good as at home, but I thought you'd want some." With another groan, Dean sat up and swung his feet off the bed and rubbed at his eyes.

"God damn. Why am I so tired?" He looked over at Cas with a smirk. "Never mind. Don't answer that." The door pounded again as Cas handed him one of the coffees. "Yeah, yeah, hold on a goddamn second!" The pounding stopped and his brothers voice floated through the door.

"You better be decent Dean, 'cause we're coming in."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sam. Just give me a minute okay?" Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his boxers from the floor, putting his coffee down before sliding them on. "Hey Cas, if you can pop anywhere in an instant, how come you didn't just pop on home to get _our_ coffee?"

"This was faster than waiting for the coffee machine."

"Maybe, but not as good." He grimaced as he picked it up to take another swallow, quickly placing it down again as he rummaged around for his t-shirt. Pulling it over his head he figured that was good enough and gave Cas a nod. The angel opened the door, letting in Sam accompanied by Garth, who didn't look much different than the last time Dean had seen him.

"Hey Dean, you big teddy bear, c'mere you!" Before he knew it, Garth had enveloped the other hunter in a hug. Dean awkwardly patted his back, returning the hug.

"Aw…yeah, man, good to see you."

"Oh man, this is Castiel, right?" Garth let go of Dean and bounded forward to engulf the angel in a hug. Sam snickered at how stiffly the angel stood while wrapped up in Garth. Dean's brow furrowed down.

"Wait, you guys never met? How is that possible? I mean, Kevin, the Demon Tablet, the houseboat…?"

"I believe I was still in Purgatory for part of that. Garth must have been around before I returned."

"Whoa! You were in Purgatory same as Dean? That's balls!" Garth let go but draped an arm around the angels' shoulders. Castiel tilted his head and squinted his eyes at Garth.

"I find myself reminded of Charlie. Are we best friends now?"

"Sure, dude." Garth grinned. At that, the brothers collapsed in laughter, much to Cas and Garths confusion.

"Dean, I don't understand. What was funny about that?" Dean gasped from the bed trying to pull himself together. Reaching for Castiel, he pulled him away from Garth and dragged him down to sit on the bed with him.

"I love you, angel." Dean smiled lovingly at his husband who returned the look before giving him a quick and chaste kiss.

"And I you, Dean."

"Awwww…they're so sweet!" Cooed Garth.

"You won't think that when you have to live through this every day." Garth slapped Sam on his back and making the taller man stumble forward. Oh yeah, Garth had werewolf strength now, and it wasn't like he was exactly a small man to begin with, just scrawny. Sam tried to scowl but all he could muster was a deep, put upon sigh.

"Okay guys, let's just get dressed in our fed threads and get a move on."

"Breakfast first Sam." Dean dragged his eyes off Cas as he was reminded there were other people in the room.

"I've already procured breakfast from Dunkin Donuts as well." Castiel stood up and started passing out the rest of the coffees and then started pulling bagels and donuts out of the distinctive white and pink plastic bag.

"Sweet. You're the best Cas." Dean dropped another kiss on his cheek as he walked by with his jeans.

"I said Fed suits Dean."

"Whoops, right." Dropping the jeans, he grabbed a donut and his duffel bag and headed for the bathroom. "But first, a shower." He stuffed as much of his donut into his mouth and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Gross dude." Sam flinched at his brothers manners. A hand reappeared through the bathroom doorway as Dean flipped them all off. "Yeah, really mature Dean."

When Dean returned 10 minutes later, only poppy seed bagels were left and his coffee had gone cold. He shrugged, and with a grimace, he drank it down anyway. There were only two chairs in the room and Sam and Garth had claimed both of them. Dean looked around.

"Where's Cas?"

"He's doing a quick sweep of the surrounding area to see if he can find our zombie."

"Then why do we need our suits?" Dean picked at his jacket with a frown. He hated wearing a suit.

"You know the answer to that."

"Yeah, I guess." Dean dropped onto his bed just in time to hear that familiar and welcome whoosh of feathers as Cas materialized on the bed beside him.

"I found him. He didn't get very far. We can get there in five minutes with the Impala."

"All right, let's do this! Where is this nefarious zombie hiding out?" Dean leapt up to grab his weapons.

"He's at the local diner." Everyone stalled out on their way to the door.

"The…diner? Why?" Dean looked back at his husband.

"I presume he's hungry."

"Do zombies need to eat?" Garth mused.

"Well duh, they eat brains."

"Dean." Sam's bitch face was completely unnecessary, thought Dean. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the rest of them.

"Fine, let's just go." He stalked out the door after slamming it open and grabbing his duffel.  Slinging it into the trunk next to his brothers, he quickly got behind the wheel and started the Impala, waiting for the rest of the slow pokes to arrive. He didn't jump when Castiel appeared beside him instantly instead of walking around like Garth and Sam.

Sometimes he wished he could see Cas's wings or touch them. All he'd ever seen were shadows that implied their majesty. He wondered what they felt like. Would they be as soft as a birds? What color were they? He shook his head to clear his thoughts as the other doors opened and closed.

As Castiel had noted, the diner wasn't all that far away. The four of them walked inside together, hoping their target was still there. Dean looked around. Everything was peaceful. This was certainly not what he had expected. He'd been expecting screams and confusion. Dean felt at a loss.

"Over there." Castiel pointed to the far end of the diner where a tall, dark haired man in suspenders leaned against the counter flirting with the waitress. And the waiter. Huh. Well, obviously, Dean wasn't about to judge. The four of them grabbed a table as close as possible to the counter and their suspiciously un-zombie like zombie as and tried to surreptitiously study the man they'd been looking for.

"He certainly doesn't look like a zombie. I mean, shouldn't he be all decaying and shit?" Dean's whisper was harsh.

"Remember, that depends on the type of zombie he is. Karen didn't look like that, and technically the Thule were zombies to and they looked completely normal."

"Yeah, I guess." The waitress came over at that moment, causing them to look away from the counter as they ordered food to justify their presence. No matter, Dean was still hungry, it wouldn't go to waste. When he looked up again, the man was gone. He half rose from the booth when a smooth voice quite close to him spoke.

"Well, hello boys. And  look at _you_ handsome fella's…" Dean whipped his head around to find…their target. He nearly recoiled before he recovered. He frowned and held up his left hand.

"Still handsome." The guy winked at Dean and Dean rolled his eyes. What the hell was up with this zombie? He wasn't acting anything like a monster should. Before he knew it, there were five people seated at the booth. When the hell had they made room for this guy?

When had they lost control of this situation?

"Names Captain Jack Harkness…Torchwood Division." he waggled his eyebrows. "And who might you be?"

"Captain Jack Harkness?" Sam repeated.

"Well, I know that can't be _your_ name, big boy. There's only one of me. And a good thing too, I don't think this little planet could handle more than one of me." Sam narrowed his eyes at the stranger in their booth.

"No, I mean, I think I've heard that name before."

"Sam?"

"I'm serious Dean, I'm absolutely positive I've heard of this guy, and Torchwood before. We need to get back to the motel so I can check my notes."

"We can't leave now, we'd be stiffing the waitress." Garth put in. Dean noticed Castiel staring at the guy calling himself Jack when the man leaned across the table to take his hand.

"Now you, you're the handsomest one here. You're…something otherworldly, I can tell." Castiel tilted his head at him but neglected to take his hand back. Dean scowled.

"Stop manhandling my husband!" His voice growled out.

"Hey no, it's all good. We can share…there's more than enough of me to go around." another lascivious wink from the man, the zombie, and Dean lunged across the table with a growl.

"Will you shut the hell up, you murderous zombie!"

"Dean!" Castiel grabbed his husband by the back of the suit jacket and yanked him back into his seat. The rest of the occupants of the booth tensed and the diner went silent as they all turned to look at the commotion.

"Wait, you think I'm a zombie?" All hint of flirtation was gone from the stunned man.

"Well, aren't you?" Garth asked curiously. "It's okay if you are, man, 'cause you wouldn't be the only non human at this table."

"Garth, what is _wrong_ with you?!" Dean tried to twist in his husbands grasp to glare at the werewolf, but his grip was too tight.

"I think it would be best to take this discussion elsewhere." Castiel's gravelly voice broke in, his hand still clutching at the back of Deans jacket.

"I agree. How about we – " Before Jack could finish, Castiel reached across the table to touch Jack and in a dizzying motion, Dean found himself in his motel room, the double whoosh announcing Castiel's disappearance and subsequent reappearance as he went back for Sam and Garth.

The five men stood awkwardly around the motel room, Sam going straight for his laptop, which he'd left in Dean and Cas's room when they'd left just 15 minutes before. Castiel stood between Dean and Jack and Garth took up a position by the door. Jack raised his hands in a placating manner.

"Okay then, just what do you fellows think is going on?"

"You just sit and don't move." Dean ordered, and without turning away from their captive, he muttered at his brother. "Sam, what have you got?"

"Nothing yet, give me a few minutes Dean."

"Look, I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding. Now, I already introduced myself, why don't you return the courtesy? For example, what are you?" He leveled his eyes on Castiel and something glittered deep in them. Castiel remained silent as he stared at the man. Garth coughed and answered when it appeared that no one else would be.

"Well I'm Garth, and I'm a werewolf. The grumpy one there is Dean and that’s his brother Sam. They're hunters, well, Men of Letters now I guess, and that guy there…he's new to me too."

"I am Castiel, and I am an Angel of the Lord."

"I'll say you are." Jack winked at Castiel again and Dean growled.

"Will you cut that _out_?"

"Why? It's not hurting anyone."

"Speaking of, we need you to explain yourself. If you're a zombie, how come you're not leaving corpses in your wake?" Dean decided that it was about time to change the subject. The faster they could figure out what the hell was going on, the faster they could take care of this idiot.

"I'm not a zombie." He stated simply. Dean scoffed.

"Like hell! We've been tracking your deaths all the way down this interstate. Nothing human lives through crap like that."

"I'm offended! I certainly am human…ish."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means I was born human and I'm still human, I just can't die."

"Maybe he was cursed?" Garth suggested.

"I've been calling it that for a long time. I'm looking for the person who was there when this happened to me. I figure he could help figure out how to reverse it. He never got around to it the last time we got together but then, there were more important things at the time."

"And this person lives in this area?"

"No. He could be anywhere, actually. He doesn't stay in one place very long. I was tracking him down and the last reading I saw was miles away. Unfortunately, the fire I'd been in caused me to lose a few things. I was about to steal a car so I could try to continue to make my way to his last known coordinates ever since, even though he must be long gone by now. I was hoping for a clue."

"Got it!" Sam practically shouted. "Captain Jack Harkness, Torcwhood Division, Cardiff. It's just as he said. There's a picture here too." He slid the laptop around for everyone to view. The man staring up from the screen looked exactly like the man before them. Which was a problem since the photo was from the 1800's.

"Holy crap, you really can't die?"  Jack shrugged at Dean's question.

"Nope, I've tried everything. So did Torchwood when they found me."

"How did this happen?"

"Ah…you would never believe it."

"Dude, we've been hunting monsters since we were kids." Dean turned and sat down at the other chair next to his brother, placing his gun carefully on the table and keeping it well within reach. "Except for Garth there, all of us have been to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory at least once."

"The one in Miami?" Jack sat on the bed and sprawled, leering at Dean, even as Dean's husband stared at him, seemingly entranced.

"No, not the one in Miami. _Christ._ Can I kill him? I want to kill him." Castiel finally tore his eyes away from Jack and cast a disapproving glance back at the green eyed hunter. "What? It's not like it's actually gonna hurt him, right? It'll be just like the monkey in that Pirates movie. He's even got the same name. It's gotta be a sign from Chuck."

"It is not a sign from my father." Dean waved a hand negligently and looked over at his brother who was still engrossed in reading the Men of Letters files on his laptop.

"Your father's name is Chuck? I thought you said you were an Angel, doesn't that mean your father should be God?"

"He is God. He just prefers to be called Chuck."

"You boys live a strange life."

"You're one to talk." Dean groused. Castiel returned to staring at Jack. Dean knew he had nothing to worry about but his stomach still twisted up. "Cas, can you stop staring at him?"

"Dean, I think I…well, I don't understand the why, but I think I figured out the how."

"The how of what? Of his curse?"

"Yes. It appears that he's wrapped in the energy of the TARDIS, just like you are, only it's like comparing an ocean to a stream. "

"Wait, do you know the Doctor?" Jack straightened up, looking serious for maybe the second time thus far, hope tingeing his voice.

"That pain in my ass that keeps making a mess in my kitchen? You could say that." Dean grumbled, relaxing finally.

"Hold on, is that why you said we'd never believe you?"

"That's right big boy." Serious already gone, Jack winked at Sam. He rolled his eyes in response.

"Okay, so now what? And seriously, stop calling me that."

"But you are such a…big boy. So tall. I like that." Jack looked him up and down and grinned. At the same time, Dean tried to speak over him.

"Now what, what? He's not a zombie. The only bodies he's leaving in his wake are his own, and he knows the Doctor. I think it's time for Cas and I to split."

"Wait, don't leave yet!" Jack jumped up in a panic. "If you're an angel, a real live angel, isn't there something you can do about this?"

"Dude, don't you want to live forever?"

"Not really. Been there, done that. I'm tired." Dean shrugged. He'd thought about it himself. Living forever, because Cas could. It wouldn't be like he'd be alone. But it would be unnecessary, since Cas could show up in his heaven whenever he wanted, even if it turned out they weren't soul mates. He was betting they were though, what with all the talk of 'Profound Bonds' and the many times it had pierced through mind control.

" _Can_ you do that Cas?" Cas squinted at Jack before he answered Dean.

"I could. But in this case, it would be unwise." Everyone looked over at the angel waiting for him to continue. He sighed. "I don't think it would be wise to reverse something caused by a being that can see all possible futures. There must be a reason she did this. I am also getting a very strong vibe to 'back off'. I am afraid that undoing this, as Captain Harkness has asked, would have repercussions in the Time Stream."

"Now you sound like the Doctor."

"My apologies."

"So, that's it? I'm stuck like this? Doomed to watch anyone I ever get attached to die?" Jack's shoulders drooped and his voice was full of despair. Castiel reached forward to place a hand on Jacks' shoulder. Dean felt his stomach twist up again.

"My apologies." All Castiel could do was repeat the phrase, his gravelly voice filled with remorse and concern. Jack straightened up and covered his face in a smile.

"No problem. That just means I have even more time to work on my bucket list."

"That's the spirit." Dean said with gusto. "Now, I'm afraid, if that's all, Cas and I have to be shoving off. We need to make it to our first stop by 10pm tonight. I'm just gonna change outta this monkey suit first, kay angel?"

"Of course Dean." Dean beamed at his husband and stopped for a kiss on his way by. He was just closing the bathroom door behind him when Jacks voice floated towards him.

"Wow…he's pretty stuck on you, isn't he?"

"Stuck?" Dean could just see the confused tilt of the blue eyed angels head as he stared at Jack. "No, we are very obviously not stuck together as Dean just went into the bathroom." Dean shook his head with a smile as his brother and Garth started laughing. The last thing he heard as he shut the door was,

"He's…he's serious, isn't he?"


	2. Revelations of the Non Biblical Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, Garth and Sam are on their way to Cesar and Jessy’s ranch. Sam winds up giving Jack lots of backstory and comes to a horrifying realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last story in this series was 99% told with Deans point of view, but heavily featured all of Team Free Will (give or take a scene here and there) This one is going to be pretty much Sam's point of view. Also, since I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, i don't actually know how MUCH of a part Cas and Dean will be playing in this story. Oh, they are in it all right, but at least for a short while they won't be around. Hopefully that doesn't deter anyone from wanting to read.
> 
> Art - i said i wasn't and then last night i changed my mind. I'm experimenting with something...first results are, promising...but i forgot how hard it is to work with ANIMALS. i should forgo that for future chapters. 
> 
> I drew an ink outline on some flimsy cardboard and then uploaded into MS5 to attempt a weird combo watercolor/inkwash style...i'd rather do it with brushes, buuuuuut, i can't find my bottled inks. 
> 
> I have a graphic planned for last chapter but i really don't feel well, so i don't know when its coming out. sorry!

When the door closed behind Dean and Cas, and the Impala had roared to life and driven away, Jack, Garth and Sam sat in silence for a few minutes. Sam was still busy reading through files on the laptop while Garth was writing something down in a notebook. Jack sat at a loss on the bed. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. This had to have been the room of the lovebirds who had just left.

"So what now?"

"Well, I thought I'd bring you back to the bunker with us. Though I have a pit stop to make first in the other direction if you don't mind the delay. "

Jack shrugged. "Apparently, I've got all the time in the world. And the universe."

"Anyway, Dean took the car, so Garth's giving me a lift." Sam looked up at Jack. "I mean, the Doc wasn't there when we left, but he's shown up a lot in the last few months. I figure, it's as good a place as any, right?"

"Sure, when do we leave?"

"Well, it isn't very late…we could pack our things and load up and head out right now. Right Garth?"

"Right, but first…Captain, do you have any enemies?"

"Why?"

"I'm pretty certain all your recent deaths were targeted."

"Huh…how'd I miss that?" Jack mused.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Do you have any enemies that could be after you?"

"Sure…the question would be which one."

"Wow, if we put you in flannel, we could make you an honorary Winchester."

"Hey! What do you mean by that?" Sam looked up at Garth.

"Dude…just think. He's tall, he dies a lot and he has so many enemies that he literally has no idea who could be targeting him."

"I think you're just reading a little too much into things Garth. I didn't see anything in the reports that could suggest someone was after Captain Harkness here. Plus, some of it would have been pretty hard to arrange deliberately."

"Do you have a habit of dying as well? And you called _me_ a zombie?"

"Actually, that was my brother. And unlike you, _we_ don't have a wolverine healing factor, as my brother would put it. We've been lucky, or unlucky enough depending on your point of view, to have had outside resources in resurrecting us." Looking away and back down to his laptop, his finger using the touchpad to scroll, Sam continued. "Not to mention, we've got it on the highest authority that the next time we bite it, that’s it. No more second or third chances."

"Or eighths or tenths. I mean, how many times have you guys died?" Garth leaned forward in the chair he'd dropped into after Dean had vacated it and peeled off his suit jacket.

"Collectively? I lost track at the Mystery Spot to be honest. You'd have to ask Gab – er, the Trickster for the answer to that one."

"The Trickster?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Loki, Pagan God of the Norse."

"I thought you killed Loki?" Garth finished folding the jacket and handed it off to Jack without even thinking. Jack smirked and just took it, laying it on the bed next to him and smoothing out a wrinkle.

"We thought we did too. We learned better at the Mystery Spot. Anyway, I…oh crap. I left my bag in the trunk of the Impala. How far do you think they got?"

"Uh? Way Dean drives? I think you better just suck it up."

"Crap. At least I have the laptop." Sam mumbled while shutting down. "Right. I'm ready to go." He reached down for the plugs and wrapped everything up to dump into his backpack. "If we start now, I think we can hit our pit stop around dinner."

"You guys keep a dinner time? How domestic." Jack snorted. "Fine, fine! I'm ready."

Once they were underway, with Garth driving and Sam riding shotgun, Jack relegated to the back where he stretched out across the seats without a care for seatbelts – then again, if he couldn't die, it wasn't like he had to worry about accidents, now did he – Sam reached for his phone. With a sinking feeling for the ribbing he was about to endure, he dialed his brother in laws number. It took way too long for anyone to answer and Sam resolutely squashed the direction of his thoughts. He didn't want to know.

"Hello Sam."

"Uh, hey Cas, so, uh I hate to say this but…I left my duffel in the trunk and – " Before he could finish, there was an angel in the back seat, sitting on a startled Jack's lap. He recovered quickly though.

"Well, hel _-lo_ there handsome. Decided to ditch freckles and get cozy with me?" Castiel cast him a withering glance.

"No." He dropped the duffel on the floor of the car. "Goodbye Sam, Garth." Without another word, Jack was left alone in the back seat once more.

"Now that was disappointing."

"Dude, do you hit on anything that moves?"

"Why let opportunity pass you by?"

"Castiel is not an opportunity. He can smite you with a touch."

"Yeah, but you heard what he said. He won't."

"Won't stop Dean." Garth piped in.

"Maybe not, but anything Dean does to me is temporary. I can recover." He shrugged, the smirk loud in his voice.

"He can make it painful. Trust me…" Sam wasn't going to bring up Dean's stint in hell, the things he had learned to do there, but no matter what Jack had been through, he was sure tortured by Demons hadn't been on that list. Garth started the car and headed towards the nearest gas station.

"So, Sam, where's this pit stop you need to head towards?"

"We need to follow route 66 further on down to New Mexico." Garth whistled.

"That’s a pretty long haul. How far in?"

"Not sure. I need to call Jessy and Cesar and get the address of their ranch. But we've got a while before we need to worry about that." Garth nodded as he parked the car at the pump and got out, leaving the windows open so he could listen in.

"So who are Jessy and Cesar and are they cute?"

"Retired hunters, and they're husbands, so hands off." Sam shot back. Jack pouted.

"You're a buzzkill, you know that?" Sam ignored him. "When you say hunters, you don't mean deer and shit…care to explain?"

"Torchwood is in our files, so I guess before I explain anything, I should ask you if you're familiar with the Men of Letters?"

"Rings a bell.  Never worked with them though. Sort of a sexist bunch it sounds like."

"Actually, they may have started that way, but we have proof that at least as far back as the 40's they were starting to be a little more inclusive. They didn't have a problem with women Men of Letters. What they did have a problem with were hunters, or so we've gathered. Now, even though Dean and I are legacies, we didn't actually know that till about 5 or 6 years ago. We've had access to the bunker and all their files since but we're still learning the history. There's still a lot we don't know."

"Okay, so, how does knowing about these Men of Letters help me understand what hunters are?"

"Well, Dean and I, we were hunters first. That means we were a lot more hands on then it seems most Men of Letters were. They were content to gather knowledge of the arcane, artifacts of both magical and divine origins and planned to only interfere in the utmost emergencies. Anything less, they designated a very small network of trusted hunters to take care of. Which is why when the Men of Letters were supposedly exterminated in the 60's, nobody batted an eye."

"Because most people didn't even realize they were around. Okay…so the hunters, what did they hunt?"

"In a nutshell? The supernatural. The things that go bump in the night that the masses would like to ignore the truth of. Ghosts are most common, but you've also got skinwalkers, were's, vampires, wendigos – just to name a few. For a period of about 9 or 10 years, Demons were also quite a common problem." Sam looked out the window, still feeling guilty about that. Even if the initial outbreak hadn't been his fault, he'd missed his chance to permanently lock up hell himself. He'd chosen to do that, choosing himself and his brother over the world, and he still hadn't forgiven himself for it.

So many things could have been prevented if he'd just gone through with it. Even if it cost him his life. The drivers side door opened and Garth dropped into his seat and started the car back up.

"Yeah, whatever happened about that? When things hit the fan for me, you had Mr. Prophet holed up tight in the ol' boat house working on translating that Demon tablet so you could close the Gates of Hell. Now, Demons were never my forte, but even I can read omens, and it was plain to see that that never happened. Did something go wrong?"

"You could say that." Sam blew out a breath. Guess he really did owe it to Garth to explain it. "We were this close, Garth,  _this close"_ He held his hand up, his thumb and index finger almost touching. "And it all went sideways. I was on the last trial, I had the King of Hell trussed up tight and I only needed to do one last thing. And then…" He pulled in a huge breath, he hated to admit this.

"Then I stopped. The trials, I suspected the Trials were killing me from the start, but then right at the end, Dean found out they actually would. He convinced me it wasn't necessary to go through with it and I…I listened." He covered his face with his right hand with a huge sigh. There was silence. "Goddammit." Sam muttered. "I mean, everything's worked out now but…so much shit… _too_ much shit, because I didn't go through with it."

"I'm sure not everything that’s happened since has been because of that." Sam had to hand it to Garth. Any other hunter would have pounced on him…but he always saw the good in people, the silver lining. He couldn't understand how a man so optimistic and cheerful had lived as a hunter for so long and not changed. He shook his head.

"Thanks Garth, but literally, if I'd done what I set out to do, Abbadon would never have come back. Dean would never have taken on the mark of Cain, the Darkness would never have been set free and God almost killed by his own sister, the entirety of his creation threatened with his impending death and the resulting imbalance that would have caused."

"Holy fuck…" Jack breathed. "You guys don't do things by halves, do you?" A sharp gasp came from the front seat as Sam's eyes widened.

"Holy shit.  _Ho-ly_  shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Garth almost slammed on his brakes.

"Sam? What's wrong? Sam? Sam?" Jack and Garth listened to Sam as he cursed up a storm. Jack in amazement at the blue streak, Garth was horrified. Dean was the brother with the foul mouth, not Sam! "Sam? Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Sam swallowed and closed his eyes. "Fuck, the angels would still have fallen. Closing the gates would never have stopped that. And if I had succeeded, I'd have left Dean alone. I thought, the sacrifice wouldn't be so bad, cause clueless or not, Dean had Cas. Cas was -  _is -_ devoted to him." Sam swallowed again.

"The Angels fell?" Garths voice was quiet, disbelieving.

"Yeah, same night as the Trials. Cas got tricked by Metatron and they fell, they _all_ fell. Kicked out of Heaven, wings destroyed, and most of them vessel –less. And those that weren't...you probably remember the night. It looked like shooting stars all over the world."

"I _do_ remember that..."

"I remember that too. I looked into it, but couldn't find anything to explain it. Nothing actually falling from space. No ships, no meteors. No attacks by any of the races known to us, or even unknown. There was nothing extra terrestrial in origin that I or my team could attribute it too. We wound up putting it in the Unsolved Files."

"But I don't understand Sam, if Cas fell, shouldn't his wings have been destroyed too? Or is he using some other method of moving around these days...? And I mean, Cas is still around, but you implied that he wouldn't have been?"

"Yeah, um...unlike the other angels, he didn't just lose his wings.  He was the last ingredient to the spell Metatron cast. The thing that makes an Angel an Angel – his Grace - was forcefully taken from him and then he was sent back to Earth as a human. He got it back later, and then when God came back, he restored _all_ the Angels wings. But that was years later, Garth. At the time, he was alone, powerless and…that was when a Reaper killed him. The other Angels didn't believe he'd been tricked, so they were all gunning for him. And he was...he was killed. We got there _just_ as he was stabbed by the Reaper."

"Oh man, but he survived. He must have, I mean, he's here now." Garth sent a questioning, confused look at the taller hunter. Sam shrugged. His voice hoarse he continued.

"Yeah, because I didn't know it at the time, but Dean had tricked _me_ into letting an Angel possess my body, sort of as a life support system. The Trials fucked me up big time and I almost died _anyway_. That Angel was the only thing keeping me alive, and when Cas bit it, Gadreel stepped up to the plate and brought him back."

"Whoa." Garth went silent again as he tried to process everything. Jack waited a few minutes before speaking up, having been mostly quiet this whole time.

"So, and I'm getting that I'm missing a lot of history here, but, well, I think I'm missing something here."

"What you're missing is that, well…Dean is…" Sam hesitated. Garth didn't.

"Now, I told ya, Dean's a big ol' teddy bear, but what anyone who spends enough time with him figures out, is that he's also pretty co-dependent. Hunters are by nature very solitary. And Dean and Sam have been through a lot, and lost a lot of people. Without Sam or Cas…"

"He'd have been completely alone. I think Dean would have imploded."

"You think he'd have killed himself?" Jack questioned. HE was unsure if he should ask such a personal question about a man he had just barely met but it seemed the logical conclusion.

"No, not like that. I don't think he'd have actively tried to kill himself. I think he would have gone out in a blaze of glory on a hunt or through careless action because he got himself fucking drunk to try and cope…"

"Yeah, Deano didn't have the best coping mechanisms."

"He's gotten better." Sam defended.

"What he's got is Cas. Love can do amazing things." Garth grinned at Sam and the Winchester rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.

"So what's on our agenda for today? Is there a reason we're going to New Mexico?"

"Yeah, but I want to go over it with everyone together, and that includes you too Garth. Jack, you probably don't want in, but you're welcome as well."

"Well, I don't like agreeing to something without knowing what it is, but I'm usually game. I'll keep an open mind and let you know."

"Sounds good to me."

Hours went by as Sam filled in Garth about everything _else_ that had been happening, which required even more explanations for Jack. He didn't terribly enjoy rehashing the Apocalypse and the lead up to it, and how it had torn his family apart, but it was pretty major and therefore fairly necessary in giving Jack some back story on how they inevitably wound up in the positions they were in. While the spoke, Sam dug into his duffel and handed back a hex bag.

"Until we can hit up a tattoo shop, you're going to want to keep this on you. Keeps you from getting possessed."

"Sam, I don't think that will work." Garth cut in.

"You don't think I know how to make a Demon warded hex bag?"

"No, he means I can't get a tattoo. The skin would heal over."

"Oh, I didn't think of that. I wonder if – well maybe Cas could do something? We'll have to remember to ask him later. I'm to interrupting my brother and his husband _again_ on their anniversary trip unless it's an emergency. In the meantime, keep this on you at all times."

"Are Demons still that big of a problem?"

"Not so much. Between God and Crowley – "

"That's the King of Hell, by the way." Garth cut in. "They go way back."

" – they called back 90% of the Demons currently on Earth and pretty much boarded up as many of the doorways as possible, leaving only one or two routes in and out. Common Demons won't be able to head over to Earth without being summoned, so only a handful are walking the Earth again, just like the old days. And this time, there's no big plot to let Lucifer loose."

"Now, not to criticize and all powerful deity, but why would God leave _any_ of the doorways open?"

"Because Hell is still a necessary place in the mythology. God gave us free will, and he wants us to use it, even if that results in our choices sending us to Hell. But instead of bringing souls there to torture, Crowley's being tasked with redemption. Which, Crowley being Crowley, probably still means torture, but now it's with a different purpose in mind. And some souls are irredeemable; Hell becomes a jail for the worst cases. What's horrible are the souls that have no purpose being there that wind up going there anyway."

"Why's that?"

"Demon deals." Garth and Sam spoke in unison.

"That's really a thing?"

"Yeah. Most Demon deals wind up being for stupid shit. Wealth and fame and all that crap. It's mostly people being selfish, though I gather that some folks actually had some decent reasons for those deals. But that's rare. However, there _are_ others that will make a deal for _good_ reasons. When you pray to God to save your wife from a deadly disease, and he doesn't answer, who do you turn to next? Those are the souls God had to pry out of Crowley's hands." Sam snorted. "I can tell you, he was none too happy."

"I can't say I'm too broken up to hear that."

"Yeah, same here." Before they could continue with their discussion, Sam's phone rang. He answered it quickly.

"Hey Cesar, how are you? Mmhmm…that’s good to hear. Congratulations! Yeah, we're doing fairly well. Oh, well, I'm heading out your way – oh no, don't worry, there's no case – yeah, so we're headed out your way and were hoping we could drop in. We've got some ideas we want to run past you two. Yeah, I know you're retired. This won't impact that, I promise. Uh huh. Okay, great!  What's the address?" Sam already had a notepad balanced on his knees as he scribbled it down.

"Okay, okay. Yup, I got it. I'm thinking, yeah, thinking about evening arrival perhaps? Is there a place we can stay in town? Oh? Are you sure? Okay, well, just to warn you, it's just me, no Dean. I do have 2 other people with me though. You sure? That's great, thanks Cesar!" Sam hung up and quickly pulled up google maps, plugging in the address Cesar had provided.

"So, as you heard, they are now expecting us, and Cesar has extended an invitation to stay out at the ranch instead of checking into a cheap motel."

"I think I'm going to like these friends of yours." Garth noted. "I just hope they don't take umbrage with what I am these days."

"Don't worry Garth, we'll explain it to them."

"I don't know, man, hunters aren't well known for their tolerance of the supernatural."

"Yeah, but I know these guys. It'll be okay, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter wasn't near as long as the other one. I think a 15 page first chapter was a bit of a fluke, now we're back to the normal average size of what i intend for this series.


	3. Traveling Down to New Mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should have been an easy, boring haul down to Cesar and Jessy's ranch, but the life of a Winchester is rarely boring. Sam often wished it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the last chapter for the next two weeks cause i'm doing GISHWHES next week . i'm both anxious and excited cause i've never done this before!!
> 
> Edit: ps...I looked up the hunter husbands names on IMDB for their spellings so Im using Cesar and Jessy like they did...but the tagging system already has them set as Cesar and Jesse. So which ones right?

They were perhaps an hour or two out from the ranch, if Sam's calculations were correct, when his phone rang. Looking down at the caller ID he got a sinking feeling. He answered it and automatically put it on speaker, in case he needed his hands to look up information.

"Donna. What's up?"

"Well howdy handsome, nothin' good I'm afraid. I got me a situation out here, I think I need your boys  expertise on."

"Okay, shoot."

"Well, some folks have gone missing, but none of the usual signs are pointin' towards vampires. They're mostly hikers, some hobos, and a couple of kids who went off playing that PokeGo game…"

"It's Pokemon Go."

"Yeah, that."

"Right. Well, what have you gathered at the scenes?" After listening to Donna for a few moments, Garth and Jack listening as well, Sam spoke up again. "Well, I can't be certain without seeing for myself, but it sounds like you're dealing with a Wendigo. Now, Donna, those things are nasty and you're going to want to take some backup."

"Sugar, are you telling me I can't do this on my own?"

"No, Donna, I'm saying that even my brother and I never face one of these alone. And even that's almost ended in disaster at least once."

"Well shoot. How far away are you boys?"

"Uh, I'm afraid not too close. Maybe a couple of days away. How long ago was the last disappearance?"

"Last night."

"All right, let me see who's in the area and I'll get back to you."

"Sure, but don't take too long now, y'hear? Time's a wastin'."

"Yeah, I got that." He hung up and started scrolling through his contacts. The list was getting thinner every year. It just proved even further exactly how necessary what he was planning had become.

"Where's Donna located?" Garth asked cheerfully.

"Hmm? You mean Sherriff Hanscum? She's out of Hibbing, Minnesota."

"A sheriff? Hot damn! You guys got law enforcement into hunting? I'm impressed!"

"Yeah, we have a few. But that does mean she's sort of tied down to a location."

"Yeah, but I bet that location is sitting pretty with a guardian angel. I know that Torchwood had Cardiff locked up pretty tight for weird crap back when we were still operating." Sam snorted at Jacks words.

"Hey, doesn't Roscoe work cases out that way a lot? He could get there pretty fast."

"You didn't hear? Garth, I'm sorry, but Roscoe bit it last year."

"Balls." Garth slapped the steering wheel. Sam swore under his breath as he continued to look through his contact list. "What is it Sam?"

"I don't think there's anyone I know who I can get to Donna in time."

"Well, as law enforcement, can't she just, y'know, initiate her partner into this and have them help her out?"

"That's never really worked out in my experience." Jack piped in. "You never know how someone's going to react to the extra terrestrial, or in this case, the supernatural.  Their whole worlds being put on end and _then_ you add in the danger and life threatening situations and you could waste time getting the guy or gal over their freak out."

"Garth, I hate to say this, because it's double the distance to turn around now, but I don't think there's _anyone_ who can get to her in a timely manner who is _also_ qualified. The only ones out her way at all are knee deep in other problems.  We're just going to have to bite the bullet and turn around. We might not be able to save the folks who are already missing, but we can at least help take care of the problem."

Decision made, Sam pulled out his phone while Garth started to pull a U turn in the middle of the empty road. Sam had barely pulled gotten his phone ready when the car's odd noises changed pitch and tone. He paused. "Gaaarth…what is that noise?"

"Oh no worries, my baby's just purring like a kitten. She does that sometimes." Garth patted the dash and beamed proudly. Sam's heart sank.

"Garth, just, no. That is not a good sound.  I'm not Dean and even _I_  know that. Oh, and word to the wise  - don't you ever let Dean hear you call this thing baby…" The sounds got worse and with a hiss and a sputter the car started to slow down.

"Uh oh. I've got bad news for you kemosabe, I think the car's dead." Sam refrained for banging his head on the dash.  It was a near thing.

"Fuck." He hit redial. "I have bad news for you Donna, there's absolutely nobody else close by who can help at all and our car just broke down. Even if it wasn't, it would take us forever to get there. I don't recommend you going it alone, but if you can find someone you can trust, get yourself a flame thrower or make yourself the equivalent of one. That's what you're going to need to take this thing out, okay? "

"Dean's car broke down? How come I don't hear him cussin' a blue streak?"

"Because I'm not traveling with Dean. He and Cas are on their anniversary tour right now – oh! I just had an idea!" He twisted briefly in his seat to look back at the dark haired man lounging back there. "Oh um, you might want to sit up, Jack." Sam closed his eyes and put the phone down. He'd gotten better at the internal praying, he just hoped Castiel didn't ignore him. He was certain that by now, Dean and Cas had turned off their phones as they'd planned, and resorting to prayer was the only way he'd get a hold of them. That'd been intentional on their parts, contact only for emergencies.

 _::Castiel, this is Sam, we have an emergency and I need to get to Hibbing, Minnesota ASAP. Think I can hitch a ride there?::_ He opened his eyes, expecting to hear the sudden whoosh of wings, but nothing. He waited a few minutes more.

"Uh, Sam? Sam, what's going on?" Donna's voice floated up from the phone in his lap, startling him.

"Sorry, I thought…but no, prayers always get through…unless?" He shuddered. Either Cas and Dean were doing something he really didn't want to know about, or they were in trouble _. ::Castiel? Cas? You there? I hate to do this man, but uh, I need your help::_

He breathed a sigh of relief as this time he was able to hear the expected sound of wings fluttering in the back seat, but when he twisted around again to face the back seat a second time…

" _Gabriel_?! What are you doing here?"

"I heard you needed some help, Samwise." He snapped his fingers and the car roared to life.

"Cool, thanks man!" Garth beamed out happily. Gabriel gave him a casual two finger salute and then looked to his right to where Jack was staring at him with his jaw dropped open. Sam almost laughed. It didn't seem like the usual look for the man.

"Oh, hey look, it's everyone's favorite spaceman!"

"You're supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, not so much. Sam knows how hard it is to kill me. Isn't that right, moose?" Gabriel snickered. "So what's up?"

"Wait, you guys know each other?"

"Sure do. Jack's been kicking around the earth a while, a couple of times actually."

"You knew? And just what _are_ you anyway?" Sam could see Jacks mind was whirling with questions, uncertain of what to lead with first. That was too bad though, because Sam had his own questions, ones that could potentially be more important.

"First things first – why did _you_ answer my prayer to Cas?"

"It's called 'call forwarding' – surely you've heard of it? Baby bro arranged it with me ahead of time." Sam had the feeling that if he'd had the chance, he'd have taken a bow, complete with flourish. "Don't worry Sammy, your bro and mine are perfectly safe…it's everyone around them that’s about to die from an overdose of sweet."

"That's a little rich coming from the trickster."

"So I like sweets. Sue me." He shrugged and turned back to Jack. "As for you, bucko, I'm an angel. And a Pagan God, the Lord of all Tricksters."

"How did I never catch on?"

"Meh, we were a little busy at the time. And I might have spent my time making sure you didn't find out."

"But I felt _guilty_ when you died."

"Yeah, I had things to do in a lovely, in the middle of nowhere, town in America. Sam might even remember it. Elysium? I knew I was going to have to go deeper under cover after that. Had to fake my own death to preserve a time stream."

"Wait, did you fake your death twice in the same day? How did you even know you'd need to?" Sam paused as another thought occurred to him. "Shit, no, better question, how'd you find the _time_ to do that?"

"Hel- _lo_! Archangel here! I have powers! When I made that porno message for you and Deano, I made a quick stop into Cardiff and faked my death there. Jack here had no idea what I was at the time and if I had to go into hiding, I couldn't leave him hanging."

"So you thought me grieving you would be better than me being worried or mad that you just disappeared?"

"Um, yeah?" Gabriel looked like he didn't understand why Jack might possibly be mad. Sam mused that maybe he didn't. "It would give you closure. That would be so much better."

"You're an asshole."

"Holy shit. You guys were a thing?"

"Not anymore we aren't." Jack continued to glare at Gabriel. "Don't look at me. You've got work to do elsewhere, so why don't you just talk to Sam about it and get out of our hair."

"Hey, uh, guys, I hate to interrupt, but the chick on the phone is trying to get your attention."  Sam jolted and twisted back around, looking at the phone laying in his lap. Still on, still on speaker and, yup, Donna was yelling.

"I am so sorry Donna, I – "

"Finally! I hate to rush you Sam, but it'd be the cherry on top if I could solve this Wendigo problem ASAP. We just had a report of another disappearance. A kid right outta the park. This is getting' outta hand Sam."

"I'm so sorry," He couldn't help but repeat, "but I think I've got someone who can help now, if you think you can put up with him – "

"Hey! That's not very nice!" Gabriel called from the back, before leaning forward towards the phone, his voice right in Sam's ear. "Where are you right now Donna?"

"I'm in Hibbing, Minnesota, down at the Sheriff's station. But I'm about to head out to the scene – oh fudge! Who the fudge are you? You near gave me a heart attack!" Sam blinked and turned around again. Jack was now alone in the backseat. Well then, guess that was the Wendigo problem solved.

"So um, Donna, that's Gabriel and – " Click. He blinked again. She'd hung up. He shrugged and put his phone away. "Guess we don't need to turn around now at least. Gabriel can take care of pretty much anything that crops up out there."

In the rearview mirror, Sam caught Jack looking a little perplexed as he looked back and forth between the hunters. "What's wrong Jack?"

"You two don't seem very surprised about any of this."

"What? Gabriel appearing out of nowhere? Dude, you saw Cas do that 3 time already. Not much of a surprise."

"No I meant, me. When he called me a spaceman cause, y'know, he aint' exactly wrong. Technically."

"Oh, well, I mean, you know the Doctor so, I figured the likelihood was pretty good."

"What about him?" Jack nodded his head at the werewolf who was already putting the car back into motion.

"Who, Garth?"

"Yeah, why isn't he all surprised? Doesn't this bother you at all, Garth?"

"Man, I'm chill. Spaceman, zombie…tomato, tomahto. You know how it goes." Jack sat back, unsure how to take the characters he was surrounded by. On the one hand…he didn't get them. But on the other, this could be a lot of fun. He grinned.

"So, did I really have a fling with an archangel?" Sam groaned even as Garth laughed.

"Welcome to our weird little family." Garth beamed.

"Thanks, I think?" The normally cocky man sounded so unsure that Sam had to cough to cover a laugh.

It was nearing midnight before they pulled into the ranch in New Mexico. They'd all taken turns driving and taking naps, but they were all still quite exhausted. Sam supposed it really wasn't a rush to get there and back like it normally was whenever he and his brother headed out for a case, but old habits died hard. There were worse habits, he supposed.

It was no surprise to Sam that it was Cesar waiting for them outside the ranch. He'd genuinely liked both hunters, but Cesar had seemed to be the more trusting, a tad more friendly. Then again, Jessy _had_ been under a great deal of stress at the time.

"Sam, where'd you get that piece of shit?" Cesar called out good-naturedly as Sam cut the engine and levered himself out of the car. Garth and Jack followed suit.

"Hey man, you should ask Garth that. This piece of shit even died on us on the way down. Thankfully, we had a um, bit of a miracle and it picked back up again." Jack snorted at Sam's choice of words.

"Yeah, I suppose having an Archangel play at being a mechanic can be called a miracle."

"An Archangel? Sam, what exactly is going on these days?"

"It's a long story, and I wanna tell it when we've got the whole gang assembled. But I'm thinking it'd be best t wait till morning."

"Right, well then, we've got some space up on the second floor for you boys, though you're going to have to fight over who gets the bed."

"No fighting necessary," Jack smirked, stepping up between Sam and Garth and dropping an arm around each of their shoulders. "How big is the bed? I'm no stranger to sharing." He winked and Cesar laughed.

"That one sure is a character, where'd you pick him up?"

"That's actually part of our long story. We'll tell you tomorrow. But in the meantime, this is Jack, that’s Garth. Guys, this is Cesar, and somewhere around here is his husband, Jessy." He turned his head to look at Jack. "Husband, Jack, so no flirting with either of them."

"Hey! Flirting's perfectly harmless." Garth turned suddenly under his arm so he could reach around and pat Jack consolingly.

"It's okay man, you can flirt with me all you want. I won't mind."

"Garth, you're married. And do you even swing that way?"

"Nope, but what does it matter? He's just flirting…"

"Oh my god," Cesar groaned. "Just go to bed, you three." Cesar turned and walked inside the house, the other three following after a quick stop for their duffels. Sam reflected on the fact that Jack didn't actually have anything of his own. They'd have to fix that. In the meantime, he supposed Jack could borrow his clothes. Walking inside the beautifully crafted log style house, the three of them walked tiredly towards the stairs. At the top Cesar turned to face them.

"There's two bedrooms up here, and an extra bathroom. Each one only has one bed, but we have bedrolls if you decide against sharing. I'd offer one of you the couch but," He paused, eyeing all three of them up and down, "I don't think any of you would fit."

"Don't worry about it man. You go back to bed and we'll see you and Jessy in the morning." Cesar flashed them a grin and trotted back down the stairs leaving the three of them alone in the hall. They stared at each other a moment, too tired to really move or even think. Finally, Garth grabbed Jack by the arm and dragged him into the room on the right.

"Goodnight Sam."

"Yeah, uh, goodnight Garth, Jack. Behave you two."

"Of course." Garth attempted to close the door but Jack pushed it back open long enough to poke his head out with a wide grin.

"But what's the fun in that?" He ducked back around the corner as Sam rolled his eyes. The door started shutting behind the two and Sam turned away to open the door to his – blissfully single – room.  As he reached for the handle, the voices of his traveling companions floated out, just loud enough for the words to be made out where he stood in the hallway.

"Hey man, sometimes it helps to talk about it."

"Talk about what?" came the confused voice of Jack Harkness. Sam paused. He was curious what Garth meant too.

"Your break up man. You sounded pretty heartbroken about it. I get it, I been there, done that before I found my Bess…"

"We didn't break up. I don't need to talk about anything…"

"It's okay to let it out. Come on…here, I bet you need a hug."

Sam smothered a laugh and finished entering his own room, closing the door behind him and cutting off the rest of the conversation. Yeah, he always forgot how much of a hugger Garth was. Looks like some things just didn't change.  He wondered if he should warn Jessy and Cesar in the morning.

 

 

 

 


	4. A Little Exposition is Good for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, Jessy and Cesar get to see Sam and meet his guests - and find out what exactly is going on and what Sam wants from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - i'm sorry there's no pic...  
> 2 - I'm posting this because I need a Gish -break ...i did most of the writing last week before GISHWHEEK started, and this week during my work breaks though so not much time taken out of GISHWHES - which is crazy, but fun! :D
> 
> 3- Now about the chapter - yes, Sam talks a lot about things we already know, but thats not all this chapter is. It's totally necessary for the story to advance, and i think i have why in here pretty sufficiently. There are bits surrounding and threaded through the conversations as Jessy and Cesar learn more about what's going on and what things they knew were wrong.
> 
> I hope i was successful in making a potential rehash into something that's still fun to read. Please let me know what you think?
> 
> Also, i'm sticking with Jessy in the body of the story cause that's what was on IMDB and no one has yet objected to it.

"So what has the three of you out our way?" Jessy called out from the stove, as Cesar moved around him, grabbing plates and mugs. "Not that we're unhappy to see you, Sam." He hurried to assure.

"Well, we had some ideas we wanted to run by you…"

"Samuel, I think before we start laying down plans, we should make sure everyone's all caught up on the current gossip and that they're uh, okay with certain things." Garth looked at Sam pointedly and he realized with a jolt that the skinny werewolf meant himself. Possibly with a side of Jack thrown in as well now that he thought about it.

"Yeah, okay, yeah, that's uh, a good idea. I just, um, not sure where to start." Sam mused silently for a moment, his thoughts racing for all to see as Cesar placed the plates and mugs onto the table before their guests. It's not that he really wanted to air a lot of his and Dean's crap, but if he was going to get people on board with things, he better clear up any misconceptions other hunters might have of them. Trust would be necessary for this to get off the ground.

"You do realize, right, that we're out of the hunting business."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. This is…well, it's kind of an odd idea and I thought you guys might have some insight for it."

"Well, we'll listen, but we're not going to promise anything." He sat down just as Jessy reached them with a platter of greasy bacon. God, Dean was going to flip. This smelled like the best bacon Sam had ever had, even he couldn't resist it, despite the fact that he could feel his arteries clogging just at the smell. He'd need to make sure to make his brother jealous that he'd missed it.

"So, first, where's Dean? Is he…?"

"Oh, oh no! He's good. He's, actually, he and his husband are on an anniversary trip." Jessy and Cesar looked at each other, Jessy grabbing his own husbands hand and curling their fingers together. God, they were just about as bad as Dean and Cas, Sam couldn't help but think with a smile.

"Oh yeah? I thought I detected a wistful tone to his voice when we first met." Cesar grinned.

"I don't think I ever told Dean Congratulations. What's the official date, Sam?" Garth broke in.

"September 18th." Sam looked down as he tried not to grin at the utter romantic Dean had become around Castiel, though he hotly denied it. Until Cas just looked at him.

"I'm guessing  that date has significance?"

"Uh, actually it does. It um…okay, this might stretch your credulity. In fact, a lot of what I'm going to tell you, which is all tied to this will kinda do that, but as Garth said, you need to know all this background before you agree to help."

"We were just asking for the significance of the date, not hunting gossip." Garth started to say, "Oh! Ooooooooh, never mind. I think I get it man."

"You're not filling me with much confidence here, Sam." Cesar tightened his grip on Jessy's hand. Jessy had promised to give up hunting, but Cesar often worried that the retired life would prove too boring and that the hunting life would draw Jessy back in. Out of all the things he'd seen, he'd experienced, that was what gave him nightmares and kept him up at night.

"I know, I'm going about this all wrong." He took a deep breath. "Okay, so, right, I'll just give you the cliff notes version, and then you can ask anything you want more on, okay?" A handful of nods from around the table and Sam blew out a breath.

"Before I start, what exactly have you heard about the Winchesters, the Apocalypse, demons and Angels?"

"Well, we already know some of what we heard was wrong, since you're not exactly dead." Jessy ventured.

"To be honest, a lot of what you heard was probably right, but missing a lot of the context…" Sam motioned for them to continue.

"We heard that the Winchesters were - are - a hunting family, and that they literally sprang up out of nowhere. That they cover more of North America than most other hunters."

"You have to admit, most hunters tend to stick to an area…Even we did, except for that one in Gunnison, but then,  you already know that was a special case." Jessy nodded at Cesar's words and continued.

"We heard the Winchesters were ruthless, that they don't work well with others – "

"No more so than other hunters tend to if you want my opinion. Anyway, I heard that was more Papa Winchester, than his boys." Cesar interrupted briefly.

"It's been said that people tend to die around you guys. There was the fiasco at the Devils Gate in Colorado, and rumors that uh…you started the Apocalypse."

"After that things get a little muddy. Obviously, we were more than a little surprised when we saw you and your brother back in Gunnison but we've seen your mugs on the news being declared dead more than once, a couple of murder sprees, and then it all went quiet."  Sam snorted.

"Quiet, yeah, anything but that. Just our involvement in some things managed to get hushed up somehow."

"That's about it, though. That's what we know from rumors. And we also know that some of _that_ came from demons and you know how reliable _that_ is. But whenever  Jessy and I tried to point that out to other hunters, not many of them wanted to listen."

"Which is stupid, really. I mean, demons, right? Plus, we all know about skinwalkers, which could have accounted for the murder sprees. I always figured you'd just pissed one of them right off somehow."

"You don't even know the half of it." Sam sighed. "Right. Well, this  _does_  give me a starting point. Jack here doesn't really know anything more than we told him on the drive here so it's pretty much all new to him too." Cesar and Jessy stared over at Jack who was lounging quietly in his seat. He winked at them with a smirk, munching on the bacon that had been placed before him.

"You're not a hunter?" Jessy asked, confused. Jack waggled his eyebrows but refrained from answering. "You seem awfully calm about all this."

"Oh, the things I have seen, you boys wouldn't be able to believe." Sam decided this would be a good time to cut back in.

"So, some of that stuff is right. The Winchesters – as a hunting family – really did come out of nowhere. Dean and I were raised as hunters by our Dad and he got into it after our mother was killed by a demon when I was just a baby. He spent the next 22 years trying to learn everything he could about the yellow eyed demon and learning everything else about hunting along the way."

Jessy cast his eyes down and Cesar looked at him sympathetically. They certainly understood about vendettas, and things Dean and Sam had both said back then made a lot more sense now. Cesar reached his other hand over and patted his husbands, where it was still joined in his, reassuringly, mouthing words that Sam was certain was "I love you." Jessy smiled and they turned their attention back to Sam.

"Now, about a decade back is when everything hit the fan. We discovered that our family was being targeted by demons and soon after that, that our family _line_ was actually being manipulated by Angels – both Heaven and Hell were trying to use us to jump start the Apocalypse because of a prophecy." Sam leaned forward and grabbed his mug, steaming hot with coffee. "It nearly worked too."

"But it didn't. We're all still here, right?" The other four watched as Sam spooned sugar into his coffee mug and stirred it slowly.

"You very nearly weren't. Lilith was set free at the Devils Gate fiasco you heard about. We managed to take Azazel down with the Colt but it was too late to get the gate shut in time. She took over where he left off and personally took Dean down herself. Lucifer was then set free when 66 of the many seals locking him away were broken. Dean broke the first one in hell when he was being tortured and he uh, well, he broke. That started a chain reaction we, and many others, felt the repercussions to for _years_. I wound up breaking the last one by killing a demon. I had no idea that killing Lilith would start the very thing I was trying to stop."

"Hold up, your brother was in _Hell_?" Jessy looked at the trio of men before him like they were joshing him.

"Yeah,  that's how he met his husband. Castiel is, literally, an Angel. He pulled Dean out on orders and promptly fell from Heaven. Pretty much." Sam chuckled. "I mean, it literally took two or three almost Apocalypse's and some eye rolling from God himself to get them to admit they had feelings for each other, but they finally did. Their anniversary is the date Cas rescued Dean from Hell." Garth's eyes twinkled as he grinned at the proof of his beliefs that Dean was a softy underneath his hard hunter exterior.

"Did you say the Colt? I thought that was a myth?" Cesar's slightly accented voice broke in again.

"Yeah, we did too. Then my brother and I found it by accident and found out real quick that it worked just as advertised."

"The Colt? I've never heard of it." Jessy leaned over to Cesar, his brow scrunched together.

"It was a weapon, a gun, which was rumored to be able to kill any monster out there. I didn't think it was real. Most hunters don't."

"Not only was it real, but the same guy that made the Colt also created a giant Devils Trap around the Devils Gate using railroad tracks and the damn thing was also a frickin' key to that Gate which he'd managed to take from us. He found a loophole to get to the gate used the key to the open the Gate. We called every hunter who was nearby at the time, but most of the local ones had already been killed by him just a day or two prior. We were on our own and hopelessly outmatched."

"Yeah…I wouldn't like those odds either. How many of you stood at the Gate?"

"Four of us…Me, Dean, Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle."

"I remember Ellen, she owned the Roadhouse, a sanctuary for other hunters.  Then it burned down – right before the Devils Gate incident if I have the timing right." Sam nodded at Cesar. "I heard she died a couple years after that, with her daughter right? I never heard what actually happened."

"Yeah um…well Dean and I, with Cas's help, managed to screw over Heaven and Hell's grand plan for the Apocalypse because neither of us said yes to being used as vessels. Angels, even ex angels like the devil, need a meat suit just like demons do to actually walk the Earth. I was slated to be Lucifer's and Dean was slated for Michael's but unlike demons, they need permission. They hadn't counted on free will. Or the support of one of their own. Without Cas…" Sam shook his head just thinking about it.

So we spent the better part of a year trying to find away to take Lucifer out after he was set loose without starting the Apocalypse. We tried the Colt on him…looks like we found the only thing it did _not_ work on. But finding _that_ out meant getting close enough to him to even try.  We went in, five of us this time, with an angel on our side. We were attacked by Hell Hounds right after Lucifer trapped Cas. That’s…that’s when we lost Ellen and Jo."

"That was a hell of a loss to the hunting community." Cesar said softly.

"Don't we know it." Sam swallowed back the old guilt and raised his mug to his lips.

"Hell Hounds I know. There's no escaping those things once they get your scent." Jessy broke in.  "I dealt with one or two incidents where folks made demon deals. The results are…rather nasty." All the men at the table shuddered except Jack who didn't have any experiences with the creatures himself. Watching their reactions, he counted himself lucky.

"Demons are hard enough to kill. I can't imagine an angel, even a fallen one, would be much easier. How'd you take down Lucifer? You must have, if we're all sitting here now, right?"

"Yeaaaah – Gabriel showed us a way we could cage him back up. But then the last Archangel attempted to restart the Apocalypse anyway. This meant that Castiel was in the middle of a civil war, in Heaven of all places, trying to stop Raphael from doing just that. He made a desperate deal in order to get enough power to fight back and it…almost destroyed the world. Again." Sam decided he was already dropping enough shit on the husbands, and Jack , that he didn't need to add in the stuff about going to hell, coming back, being soulless or going crazy. There was plenty, in fact, that he could probably skip, at least for now.

"I'm afraid to ask, but, what did he do?" Cesar's face held wary curiosity, echoed openly by his husband.

"He made a deal with the King of Hell to help him hunt down Alphas so they could crack open Purgatory. He wanted the power of the souls trapped there to overpower an Archangel. What _he_ didn't realize was that it wasn't only souls in Purgatory. God locked monsters far worse than any we had ever seen before in there. Even Death warned us against them getting out. But Cas was too far gone, we got there too late and it nearly killed him. Actually, I think it did kill him. That was the third time too, but he keeps coming back, which we've always suspected God had something to do with."

Sam paused to take a sip out of his rapidly cooling mug, his throat getting a little raw from all the talking. God, going over their greatest hits like this made him feel all that old guilt anew. He pushed it away and went off on a tangent instead.

"You know, that's something that I never understood. I mean, God went missing. The Angels couldn't find him, he wasn't answering prayers, nothing. Completely incommunicado. Left to their own devices, the angels decide to start the Apocalypse because, whatever, because they did. Castiel fought back. Rebelled, fell from Grace. They kill him more than once for his defiance and he _kept coming back._ "

"He's literally the only Angel I have ever heard of that has been resurrected even once, much less multiple times. I mean, if I were Michael or Raphael or any of the other douche bags who worked to get the Apocalypse going, I'd have stopped and asked myself, "Who's bringing him back? Who _could_ bring him back? It must be dear old Dad. But if Dad is bringing him back, when he's never done that for an Angel in the history of Heaven, then maybe Castiel isn't wrong. Maybe _we_ are. Maybe we should stop this?" I just, they were so frickin' stupid! If only they had stopped to think about it, a lot of pain and tragedies could have been averted." Sam let out a huff of exasperated air and corralled his anger. There was no point in it. Spilt milk.

"Amen brother." Cesar said solemnly. Sam reached for the plate of bacon, nearly empty by now, realizing he hadn't had any of it, so busy giving everyone the back story of the Winchesters. How had his life gotten so complicated?

"How much more is there that we need to know?" Jessy asked quietly.

"Well, we found out Cas was still alive but he'd gone temporarily crazy. We found a new prophet of Heaven and something called the "Word of God" which was a tablet written by Heaven with stuff hunters would have _killed_ for. God apparently had several of them lying around as a sort of failsafe. Because of the tablet, we finally figured out a way to take down the Leviathan. Remember Dick Roman?"

"Oh, _we_ remember. That smarmy ass was everywhere." Sam snorted at Cesars words.

"Yeah, he was one of them. They could be anybody they wanted, complete with their memories. That murder spree we went on? Was them. Not skinwalkers, like you thought, but damn close. We finally took them out, but that sent Dean and Cas to Purgatory and I walked. For a year, I was out of the hunting business. Without my brother I just couldn't do it. I had no idea that…well he came back, and eventually Cas did too, only the other Angels had gotten their hands on him and brainwashed him. With the revelation of one of the Words of God,  Heaven was worried that we'd find the one on Angels and use it against them. Meanwhile, the King of Hell had the one on Demons and was trying to force the prophet to translate it for him. I started the trials to close the gates and it…never happened. "

" I'm still sorry I disappeared on you guys back then. I still feel really bad about Kevin."

"Wasn't really your fault, Garth. Anyway, the trials almost killed me. I was so bad, Dean tricked me into saying yes to an Angel life support system to keep me alive. At the same time, the Angels fell, _all_ of them. Cas got tricked by the scribe of God, turned human and every Angel got kicked from Heaven. There were massive power struggles going on between Angel factions here on Earth between the ones that actually found themselves Vessels. This eventually devolved into another Heavenly civil war with Castiel once again leading one side, the side on Earth, trying to return Angels to their home, against the Scribe of God who was really good at tricking people to be on his side."

Sam leaned forward and focused his attention on the husbands who still sat before him with joined hands. "It was around this time we discovered something called the Men of Letters. A secret society that studied and gathered information about all things supernatural. They are a trove of information and artifacts. They were hunted down and killed by a Knight of Hell, and it turns out that Dean and I are descended from one of their members. That brings us to what I actually want to do. I want to use the Men of Letters bunker as a base of operations. A hub for hunters. Instead of Dean and I going out on hunts, we'll coordinate them."

"Like Bobby did?" Garth beamed.

"Right, just like Bobby. We can make sure the right hunters are in the right areas, armed with the information they need, or even the artifacts they need. We can run interference for them too. The old FBI and other official lines. Garth here even has experience in that regard, so we're hoping to recruit him to step back up to the plate."

"Sam, I – "

"Garth, I know things happened, but I'm not asking you to go out hunting again. Just, I don't know if anyone's noticed recently, you and Jessy might not have, but the number of hunters out there is thinning. The events of the last decade have taken their toll. I haven't even _finished_ going through all the major shit that's gone down. But you have enough of a background for what I need to say."

"I didn't realize it was that bad."

"Yeah, it kinda is. Supernatural activity has calmed some since God's returned, but he's still a big believer in Free Will and being more hands off than he was in the Old Testament. Fact is, we still need hunters. We need to find a way to build the community back up. Worm our way into law enforcement – it's been a huge asset, believe me, to have officials who know what to look for that call you up when things get weird. So my idea here is three fold." He started ticking off his fingers.

"One, we need a place to teach people, figure out what their strengths are. Partner up newbies with experienced hunters. A hunter's school if you will. That’s the only one I'm still a little hazy on how to accomplish, who would take care of that. Two, the hub. Someone to do research and man the lines, and like I said, we're already set up for that. It's perfect. And three, retirement and rehabilitation."

"I take it that’s where we come in?" Cesar nodded slowly at the idea, thinking it over.

"Exactly. Like I said, you wouldn't be coming back in to the life. I wouldn't ask that. Dean wouldn't ask that. He _already_ didn't ask that. No, instead, you'd be helping hunters retire, or preparing them to retire. You could help them figure out how to live a normal life again. To be honest, some of them may never be able to do that. At which point this could be a…haven, maybe? If this place is big enough that it wouldn't be a problem for you? Or we could find places where hunters can live as hermits. Or instead of retiring they could make circuits across the country to all the safe houses in place, make sure they're stocked up and in good condition. We've got options. I’m sure we'll think of more as we go along."

"What about revenge? Hunters make a lot of enemies. We'd still be a target. In fact, we'd be a bigger one once we started harboring other hunters." Jessy interjected. Despite his words, he still looked interested in the direction this was going in.

"Yeah, but the location of this place is pretty ideal. And with only hunters out this way, you can easily set this place up to ward off pretty much everything. In fact, we'll help. We can put bunker style wards all over the place. I'm sure we can figure it out, it's already been done and the Men of Letters documented literally everything."

"We'll need to talk about it first." Cesar and Jessy glanced at each other again before looking back at Sam.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to push."

"Garth, can I ask you why you aren't hunting any more? You suggested that something happened to you."

"Uh…well, something did happen to me." Garth looked over at Sam nervously. "I try to stay out in the country now, or in less populated areas, small towns, you know. It's safer, for everyone. Bess and I are looking to get our own little spread soon, where we could raise our own animals. It'd be easier for me to…" Garth looked a little green. Coming out to Dean and Sam was one thing, they knew him, were likely to give him more of a chance, but hunters were a notorious lot for killing first and asking questions later. Even Jack hadn't counted because he wasn't any more normal than Garth was. But retired or not, the two men before him were hunters. He took a deep breath and sat up straight, stealing himself for a bad reaction. "I'm…a werewolf. One of the bitten."

There was silence for mere seconds before the husbands reacted. They both shoved their chairs back with a short yell or exclamation of disbelief and stood, putting space between them. Garth had to hand it to them though, it could have been more violent. They may not have liked what they heard, but they hadn't gone for weapons. Retired or not – there it was again – hunting habits would die hard. He should know. He always kept weapons on him and they would too.

"Sam, how can you be so calm? Werewolves are vicious! I've never seen one that didn’t become a murderous beast!"

"Yeah, well, we have actually. Quite a few in fact. It surprised us too. But see, this is the kind of thing we need a school for." Sam leaned forward earnestly.  The thing is, it's only the bitten that tend to become like that, and that's only because they start getting cravings and there's no one around who can help them adjust to the life before they wind up caving. Once they do, it's all downhill from there.  Garth here got lucky; he was found by a family of Werewolves, all born. Which meant they had answers we didn't have. They have complete control of themselves, generations upon generations of knowing how to cope and helping others to cope.  A real support group. "

"I wouldn't put us in temptations way. I don't feel real comfortable going back to the life of a hunter. Things can happen, I can and will be put in bad situations. And it could go bad, real bad. It's harder for the bitten, so I took a step back. I don't want to become a monster."

"Some would argue that you already are a monster." Cesar pulled his husband along with him as they both slowly sat back down in their seats.

"Some can argue that there are humans out there who are just as much of a monster as a real one." Jack countered. "And I've met quite a few in my many lifetimes."

"Lifetimes? And just what are you?"

"Oh, I was human once too. Then I met a time traveler and I died and then I wasn't dead anymore. He still hasn't explained that one to me. Now I can't die. Well, I _can_ die, but I don't stay dead. Believe me, I've tried. And let me tell you, living forever is not all it's cracked up to be. Not when you're doing it all on your own." Jack clapped his hands together. "On the other hand, the things I have seen! You wouldn't believe it boys…." He whistled. The husbands looked at each other in confusion before looking at Sam with a " _What the hell is going on? Is that guy serious?_ " look on their faces. Jack intercepted the look and just grinned.

"You wanna try?"

 


	5. Whats That They Say About Small Packages?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar and Jessy get a crash course in angels...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry about the nearly month long delay since the last update.
> 
> as you know it's not the only open story on my plate, though i refuse to start up any more large ones until at least one of these are closed (and i've got 2 more ideas begging to be written). Then there was GISHWHES and now i'm participating in the DCBB as an artist.
> 
> In general, i expect this story to take longer to put together, meaning i will keep updating but those updates could sometimes take awhile. My apologies!

Several hours later found them all sat outside of the house. The husbands had looked horrified at Jacks suggestion and vehemently declined. Sam had to admit, he was intrigued, in an academic sense, but he didn't take him up on it either.

Instead, the three guests were taken on a tour, Sam asking questions with the idea of a hunter haven in mind. At some point though, they'd all drifted back to the ranch porch. Sam had temporarily split aside with Jack, leaving Garth alone with the husbands.

"I want to thank you both for – just, I want to say that I appreciate you giving me a chance." He said, quietly, true gratefulness in his eyes. "I know it must not be easy to trust a werewolf…"

"Well, we trust Sam and he trusts you…besides, we know what prejudice is like, all too well." Cesar looked at Jessy whose lips pursed together tight and looked away.

The three of them wandered back over to Jack and Sam when Gabriel appeared out of thin air, as angels are wont to do, and Sam jumped even though he should have been used to such behavior, after so many years of being around Castiel.

"What the hell! Gabriel? How did you find us? I know for a fact that Cas warded me and Dean with Enochian sigils."

"Oh yeah, he definitely did that." Gabriel hopped up on the low, split rail fence as Cesar and Jessy both jerked backwards in surprise, hands slapping down their bodies for weapons but willing to take their cue from Sam. "And a good job he did too. Give credit where credit is due! But he didn't ward those two suckers." He pointed at Jack and Garth. "And I can personally find that one anywhere in the galaxy, if I wanted to." He waggled his eyebrows at Jack and Jack glared.

"I'm still mad at you,  _Gabe_."

"Who is this?  _What_  is this?" Cesar managed to choke out.

"I'm an angel. Sam! I'm hurt! You didn't tell your friends anything about me?" Gabriel pouted and Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And after I came here all this way to help you?"

"Help us with what?"

"Now!" his eyes glittered. "How about I get to work!" The short little Archangel ignored the hunter as he snapped his fingers.

"Gabe, what did you do?" Sam asked warily.

"What did I do? I only did what you secretly wanted me to do. That's gratitude for you! You're  _wel-_ come! You wanted this place warded right? So I took care of it for you. It is now a Hunters Sanctuary. Warded against anything and everything that goes bump in the night, or the day, no judging.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and no unnecessarily long trips back to the bunker required."

He leaned forward conspiratorially, "I even warded against my brothers and sisters with  _just enough_  of a twist in the wards to allow yours truly – and Cassie of course, god knows Dean won't go anywhere he can't these days. Chuck, those two are just sickening to watch – to bypass the wards in case something dire goes down and we're needed here."

"Well uh…thanks, I guess." Despite the reveal earlier that year, Sam was still getting used to the idea that the Archangel wasn't dead and was more than ready and willing to jump into the fray – on  _their_  side no less – from time to time.  "So, how'd everything go up in Hibbing?"

"That little spitfire had everything under control. She barely even needed my help. I mean, I still did. It's a lot easier to take a Wendigo out when you can just snap your fingers and they form a blazing pyre. Sadly, that's not a trick one can learn. Unless you're a witch, which I don’t recommend lightly. That’s fraught with pit traps for the unwary." He clapped his hands together loudly. "So, what next? I'm booooored."

Cesar and Jessy were still looking a bit lost as they stared at the angel in their midst. Uncertainly they looked from him to Sam and back again, with even a passing glance at Jack, since it seemed the two had some sort of history. If they were going to take bets, they would bet anything, even the ranch, that they'd been lovers once.

"Is he really an angel? He doesn't look much like what I thought an angel would look like."

"Puh-lease!" The verbally abused angel pointed down at himself. "It took me eons to put this together, squirreling away bits and pieces of my grace, hiding it in the untouched corners of Heaven before it was ready to put me into my own little witness protection program. I couldn't use a vessel you see, since they can be tracked by another archangel if they want to find you bad enough, but  _this_ …" he jumped down and he twirled about with his hands held out from his sides, ending with a little flourish. "Do you like it? It was all the rage back when I first donned it. Humans were a litttttle shorter back then." He eyed up at Sam and the rest before sighing.

"Are you saying that angels possess humans? Like a demon?"

"Ewww….Chuck no! Nothing like a demon. Don't even compare me to those…" Gabriel shuddered. "First of all, Angels can't just possess people willy nilly. They have to have a special affinity to that particular angel, and that's rare. It usually follows a bloodline, yada yada, and a lot of those have been lost over the eons." He ticked a finger off, and then moved on to the next.

"Secondly, you need permission.  You can't just enter the vessel unless the human already residing there says you can. And those aren't the only differences between a demon and an angel possession. A demon can keep the body going even after death but they don't actually heal it so if they depart, that's it. Adios to the poor soul inside. You are deader than dead. D.E.A.D.  But if an _angel_ leaves a vessel, especially willingly, the person that allowed them in is left intact - body mind and soul – even if they were dealt what would have been killing blows. However, I must admit that if an angel  _dies_  while in one such vessel, that’s…kinda bad for everyone involved. 'course, until a few years back, that pretty much didn't happen so it wasn't something Heaven was ever actually concerned about."

"Wait, wait, wait –that’s not true about being left intact. Dean told me about Raphael…he left that poor man a drooling mess!"

"Raph was an archangel; the rules  _are_  different for us. We're made of primordial stuff. Finding the right vessel is _hard_ …finding one that can contain us without suffering is _harder_ and is why I  _never_  did it after I realized what would happen. AH!" he held up a hand, "Like I said, this isn't a vessel. It's all me." He waggled his eyebrows at everyone suggestively. "Eh? Eh? Pretty snazzy, right? So what if I'm not as tall as you…you know what they say about small packages." He leered again and this time Jack couldn't help biting back a laugh. Gabriel grinned like he won the lottery in getting a positive reaction out of the man.

Gabriel stuck around the rest of the day, answering questions, playing pranks and trying to get Jacks' attention. Jack, Sam had to admit, had a pretty good ability to ignore the Archangel. Finally, he gave up and left, much to Jacks' obvious relief.

Having wasted most of the day making plans and going over the ranch and being on Archangel control, the three of them decided to stay over one more night before they went on their way. There was a haunting happening at one of the old route 66 attractions. As they piled into Garths car, Sam with a rueful shake of his head and thanking Chuck that Gabriel had seen fit to magic up repairs since that meant it was probably in the best shape it could be, Cesar and Jessy stood a few feet away.

"Sam…We'll do it. If this place is warded against all sorts of nasties, then we can handle the human style pests. We're pretty off the grid here. We use our own generators, we have our wells…we could expand the farm and ranch to help feed everyone, especially if they helped. The only thing coming in from town are the cell towers and the landlines. We even have a few radios stashed away, just in case." Jessy peered in at Garth as Cesar finished speaking.

"You talk to your Bess about the land next to ours…might be good for you folks. And you wouldn't have to worry too much about your neighbors." He said with a grin and Garth answered in kind. "But don't take too long. Old man Pritchard is looking to sell it as fast as he can so he can move to New England to be with his son before it starts snowing." Jessy shook his head and Cesar laughed.

"How he's going to deal with the cold and the snow after living here all his life...Man doesn't know what he's in for." The rest chuckled good-naturedly. "So what's next?"

"Yeah, I'll have to keep you guys posted. Right now, we have to build the network first. But if we run into anybody who needs to lay low or should retire or just…needs to heal up, we'll give you a ring and a heads up so you'll be prepared."

"Sounds like a plan. Don't be strangers, now."

"Yeah, we'll come down more often, you bet." Sam nodded at the husbands and waited for Garth to get the car moving. Jack rolled down his window and poked his whole head out, along with one whole arm as he used it to brace himself on the car to lever himself up and out some without leaving. He waggled his eyebrows and grinned largely.

"Just remember…I'm available, anytime, anywhere."

"Go on you…not interested. We're happy as we are." Cesar looked at Jessy as their hands intertwined. Jessy glowered at Jack. He looked unrepentant and completely unconcerned.

"That’s what you say now, but there's more than enough of me to go around, boys. Change your mind…" he rapped the side of the car. "You just let me know." Sam rolled his eyes as the car started to move away and he turned to look behind him at Jack.

"Do you ever give up?"

"Only when I'm dead, and that's never for long." He leaned back in the seat with his hands behind his head and stretched out as much as it was possible. He looked mighty comfortable and at ease back there and Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Hey, I think a nice positive attitude like that is great. More people in this world, especially Hunters, could benefit from an attitude like that." Garth grinned as the tires crunched down the dirt road and the occasional rock, kicking up crap loads of dirt into a mini cloud behind them. Sam was impressed; they weren't even going that fast!

"So how long to this place Sam?"

"Just a couple hours. Not too far at all."

"What's the furthest you've ever gone for a job?" Jack asked out of curiosity.

"Scotland."

"Shit, you got Dean on a plane?" Garth sounded impressed and Sam laughed.

"Yeah, wasn't easy though, I tell you. But we had a great deal of motivation at the time. He absolutely refused to get back on the plane though when we were done."

"How'd you get home?"

"Called Cas. Said the temporary side affects of Angel Airways was much preferable to his abject terror for hours on end." Garth and Jack chuckled. "Probably for the best. We had to pull a fast one to get on that plane to begin with. I don't think we would have been quite so lucky getting back through US Customs…"

"So, what was the job?"

"We were threatening the King of Hell so he'd return Bobby's soul." Sam's voice was even, rattling it off like it had been nothing. It almost was, though it had meant everything at the time and still did. God, he missed Bobby. But in the lives of the Winchesters, dealing with the King of Hell had become pretty much common place. Everything from working together to bitter enemies. There was also that one summer where Dean had been a Knight of Hell. Sam didn't even  _want_  to know what they got up to together. Crowley's' insinuations had been bad enough. He was pretty sure he'd be scarred for life, as if all the other things that he'd been exposed to over the years hadn't been bad enough.

Garth whistled and even Jack looked a little impressed. After that, they rode out the first hour of the drive in relative silence, only the radio as background noise. God awful country music, Sam thought. At least Garth wasn't singing along. Thank Chuck for small favors. After a while though, Garth broke the silence again.

"Dude, are you on the  _internet_?” Sam's laptop was propped up on his legs and against the dash as he looked up details of the haunting they were headed too. He looked up.

"Yeah, why?"

"How?"

"Oh! I guess not all hunters know about them." He picked up a little blocky device that held a blinking light. "I carry my own hot spot. A lot of business folk use them when they travel to make sure they can still do their work. It costs a bit of money but," he shrugged, "It's not like we can't just hustle up some more or defraud another credit card company. And it's damn worth it. We wind up in a lot of backwater towns without any decent internet. Half our information comes from the net. Plus," He gestured down at the laptop then around at the car and the road. "If we can do our research on the road, we waste less time getting the job taken care of."

"That's pretty smart."

"Yeah, it’s the kind of thing I hope to be able to set up our network with. "

"You've really thought this thing through, Sam. " Jack said approvingly.

"Hey, you've had experience with working in secret organizations, right? Torchwood and all? Would you be able to give us advice? What about technology that could make the job easier?"

"Advice I've got plenty, boys. But as for tech, we lost most of that when Torchwood Cardiff went down. London had gone down before that. We'd have to raid the Tower of London for more." Jack leaned forward again, fairly bouncing with energy. "You boys wanna go to London? I could show you some sights, jack some tech, and give London the middle finger, all at the same time." He grinned. "Totally would be worth it…"

"Ah, I think I'll pass." Sam said warily. "Any reason you want to give London a middle finger?"

"Not really." Sam felt like he was hiding something but then, who wasn't these days? He did want to learn more about Jack but he had the feeling the man kept things close to the vest as a matter of mystery, even when necessity was no longer an issue.

"So, what's the furthest you've ever traveled? I mean, you know the Doctor and all." Sam asked. Questions for information would be tough, but he was determined to try. Dean knew, Sam could be pretty damn stubborn.

"Hmm…I'd say, the end of the universe." His answer was as nonchalant, as commonplace as Sam's had been earlier. The car swerved and jerked back into place.

"Seriously?"

"Ooooh yeah. And it wasn't even intentional. I mean, obviously, I was traveling with the Doctor at the time, but uh…he hadn't been trying to go there. I was quite the monkey wrench. I totally threw the TARDIS off course. Not many people can say that." He said smugly. Sam shook his head and Garth chuckled.

"I guess if you're going to do something, you might as well do it big, right Sam?"

"I don't know about that Garth. That doesn't seem to work in our favor usually."

"That's cause you're Winchesters." Jack leaned forward to clap the other two men on the shoulders.

"That just means you're not doing it right. Stick with me, boys," he patted them again, "I can teach you allll about it."

Sam was getting a sinking feeling. Garth just grinned.


	6. Sam's Got a List and Jacks' Trying to Invent...Something?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garth takes off with Sam's List. Sam tries to work a case and Jack is inventing...actually, Sam has no idea what he's making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATES:  
> So i'm sorry this story is getting updated slowly. It will likely continue to be that way for the near future. this is a more difficult story to write than my others for different reasons. But I've got my ideas, so no worries! This project will not be abandoned.
> 
> PACING:  
> I do apologize, also, for the pacing of the story. I'm afraid this one isn't as 'fast paced' as the last one in the series (and i don't mean the chapter publishing schedule, but the actual pace of the story). But i swear its all necessary and should hopefully pick up. I have my bullet items but i don't always know how it'll work till i get there. I hope everyone's okay with the pacing though. *crosses fingers nervously*
> 
> Please let me know what you are thinking? I've found comments really do help keep one motivated. I've been trying to do better at giving out comments to other authors for just that reason.
> 
> WHATS ON MY PLATE:  
> in the meantime, i have a to do list. I'm still going strong on my other story that - yes, does update more frequently. It's also, i think, closing in on the end. I've got some bullet items left on the list of points i want to hit, and some of them are already written out, so its just reaching those points that make the length uncertain. I'm also doing art for the DCBB story i picked out. i finished 3 pieces today and hoping to do a couple more. I've signed up for a few other things that will take place later in the year, but i'm trying to be wary of signing up for too much too. I'm just, really, testing the waters.
> 
> I also have another big story in the works that is actually ALL written out but not published yet. I've talked about it in other places, but i don't think I've done so here yet. I'm working on editing it and then finding a Beta for it before it's ever going up. IF i find a Beta, it'll be the second fic here that ever managed to get one.
> 
> IN THE MEANTIME!!  
> Announcement - I have a second tumblr. I created one to match my A03 username and use it primarily for fics - mine, others, writing advice and other things. So far i think its going well, content wise. Feel free to follow me there :D
> 
>   [Pherryt's Corner](http://pherryt.tumblr.com/)

Just a couple of hours later found Sam and Jack trudging out of a derelict house, Sam's face full of frustration. Garth had dropped them off after arranging for a car for them and headed back home to Bess and start some networking while Sam kept an eye on Jack. Sam had used the ride to write down every name he could think of for Garth to track down for him, since Sam wasn't entirely sure where most of the people on his list had even hared off to after the last time he and Dean had seen them.

The list had been pretty short. Aside from the people he was already in contact with, that hadn't left much. There were Krissy's friends Aiden and Josephine. He told Garth just to find them and see what they were up to, not to contact them. They were just kids and he didn't want to bring them into this yet.

 Missouri Moseley, while not a hunter, would be great for keeping tabs on people, getting information, networking basically. For that matter, Pastor Gideon could be used for the same type of networking. Acting as safe houses on separate sides of the country. They'd need to set up a few and with Gabriel's help, he was sure they could monster proof it with, quite literally, a snap.

There was Cole who Sam wasn't sure he liked but you didn't have to like a man to work alongside him. It just made things easier. Then again, Cole had family and he wasn't sure how he felt about bringing in someone's dad. What if something happened? It'd be Krissy all over again.

Speaking of people he wasn't sure he could get along with, there was Creedy, Roy and Walt. None of whom Sam had even heard of for the past – how many years was it? But they were experienced hunters and if they could get past their differences, it could be worth looking them up. If they weren't dead. They very well could be. And even if they weren't, Dean had threatened Roy and Walt. It might be a hard sell. After all, the two hunters had kind of killed Sam right in front of Dean before punching Dean's ticket as well

Tamara hadn't wanted to work with them after her husband died, but maybe, now that some time had passed, she'd be up for it.  She was a little hot tempered but then, who wouldn't be after going through something like that? Sam still remembered how broken up he'd been after Jessica. How much grief and rage he'd been filled with.

Tracy Bell might willingly work with them. She hadn't liked Sam at first but she'd come around after that case they'd worked on together, however unwillingly. And last he heard, Ennis had been making himself known in Chicago in the supernatural world. He was acting almost like an unofficial liason and police force between the clans of creatures that had carved up Chicago as their home. It wouldn't hurt to get in touch with him, make him part of the network at least, keep tabs on him.

And if he was opening this up to more than mere hunters, there were other people he and Dean should really take into consideration. He should find Kate – not to recruit her, but to direct her towards Garth and Bess. It was really too bad they hadn't thought to tell her to look him up the last time they'd crossed paths. They could find others like her and bring her to a sanctuary. Garth was definitely looking at that parcel of land next to Cesar and Jessy's place with the notion of doing just that. And if they did that, maybe they should find Lucky too? He was a bit of a creep, but having someone who could nose around for clues, literally, could be useful.

And no matter how Dean felt about witches, they'd run across a few that might be a good idea to have on their side. Don and Maggie were volatile but powerful and easily bored. He wondered if he could get them invested somehow, _if_ he could find them of course. James was a friend, and had already proven that he could do what Sam was considering. He was sure he and Portia would be on board for this. There was Patrick too.  He was…a little more tricky. Sam wasn't sure how he felt about him, really. On the one hand, most of his tricks were harmless, and he did the kind of shit Sam and Dean had done to keep themselves floating. The con. And really, how could Sam morally judge him for that? There was also the fact that they'd _witnessed_ the witch giving away years to people, helping them to live a longer life.

But he'd also stolen them, and even killed some of them by the loss. That was pretty hard to forgive and it had been equally obvious that Patrick had no intent to stop. Fortunatly, with Jack around, Sam thought he might have a solution to that. What happened if you stole year from someone who couldn't even die?  Of course, he'd have to ask Jack if he'd be willing to do it, as it might not exactly be pleasant, and Patrick would be hard to find to begin with, but if they _did_ find him…and they both agreed to the arrangement…

Another idea had come to him when he considered the witch. Patrick could steal the years from Jack and even give some to some of the older hunters they'd run in to. Like Fred, the psychic in the old folks home. Sam shook his head. No, that was a hunter that had gotten out of the business, was finding peace with himself. Sam wouldn't ask him. Besides, they'd wrapped up his psychic ability to keep episodes like that from happening again.

If Frank wasn't dead - and Sam still wasn't convinced he wasn't, the man was a paranoid bastard after all and he wouldn't put it past him to have arranged for it to look like he was dead as soon as he realized how close Dick was to closing in on him – they could once more have a behind the scenes networking wizard. Then again…if Frank didn't want to be found, Sam was sure they never would find him. Crap. Scratch that idea.

He wouldn't mind Aaron and his Golem on the other hand. The Golem would definitely be good supernatural muscle in some tough situations and Aaron was a package deal, considering it was his Golem. Sam just wasn't sure if Aaron had finished hunting down the Thule yet. He might not even consider Sam's proposal till he did. Then again, Sam could make it part of the to do list. They could make a wanted board of people and make sure everyone had an updated list at all times and what to do if they crossed one of them. That was kind of the point of the network he wanted to set up.

"So who else was on that list? You said it was pretty short but it looked like there were  a lot of names on it."

"Well, a good number of those names are really people I don't think will be a good idea to contact. They aren't _actually_ hunters."

"Like who?" Jack jogged over to the other door and hopped in. "Oh, and I need to get to a radio shack and a home depot or the middle of nowhere equivalents."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna try to cobble some things together. I'll explain later. The list?" Sam slid into the seat beside him and started the car.

"Right, well, there's the Ghost Facers. They're pretty incompetent but they actually know about the supernatural world. We've run into them several times at different haunts. They were trying to make it public, make a TV show out of it, write books, do conventions, that kind of thing. Lat time we saw them though, they had all split apart. But I was kinda thinking, they do at least know the signs to look for, could be useful as informants, phoning in tips and stuff for things in their areas. Problem is, I'd be afraid they'd try to go after something themselves and get themselves killed. I mean, one of them already is dead and another almost died."

"Yeah, I vote no on that. I've been in that position before and it never works out. Who else?"

"There's this kid, Jesse, probably be about 18 now? When he was 11, he could neutralize an angel with a thought."

"Fuck. That's pretty powerful. What happened to him?"

"He didn't want to fight and he disappeared. With his abilities, he could literally be anywhere, anything and we might never find him, as long as he doesn't want to be found. But Dean and I figure, kids gotta pop back up sometime, we just don't know when."

"So Jesse's a pipe dream."

"Right."

"Got it."

"Lastly there's Becky who I refuse to ever work with again and a couple of fans that had first hand exposure and, I dunno, seemed to understand why it was we did what we did."

"Okay, first, what happened with Becky? Did she turn out to be a Slitheen or something?"

"What's a Slitheen?"

"Mercenaries. Aliens intent on wiping out life on the planet and selling it to the highest bidder."

"Ah. No, she wasn't a Slitheen, but she was rather mercenary in her own goals. And I really don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, so what about the fans?"

"Yeah, they were good kids. We met up with them at a convention and they really helped us out of a tight spot. Not sure they'd be in this for a long haul, but again, eyes and ears. They're the kind of people that even if they didn't get their hands dirty, doing the grunt type of Hunter work, I think they'd fell like they were doing some good in the world if they could pass on information when it came up."

"Sounds like you should definitely look them up."

"Only problem is, I really don't know how. I just know their first names are Damien and Barnes. A lot of people traveled to get to that con, more than I would have ever expected, and I don't even know where to start looking, town wise."

"Well, that's why you put Garth on it, anyway." There were a few moments of silence as the drove along the dusty roads of the small town they were in. What had been the name of it? Sam hadn't really been paying attention to tell the truth. He spotted a hardware store and pulled into the lot just as Jack spoke up again. "I can't _imagine_ you two going to a convention. Why the hell were you there?"

Sam blanched and fidgeted as he pocketed the keys and refused to look at Jack. He could feel Jacks gaze boring into his skull, heavy with curiosity.

"Saaaam….?"

"Fuck. It was a "Supernatural" convention. And we weren't there for the con. We arrived at the hotel, which was haunted, by the way, by five ghosts, and there was this convention going on and it really weirded us out okay."

"If that's code for you don't want to talk about it, too bad. Weirded you out how?" Sam shot him a bitch face and Jack looked back at him, completely unaffected. "Hey, if I'm going to wind up hanging out in your world while waiting to cross pass with the Doctor again, then I gotta know these things."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "It was a convention about us."

"About you?" Jacks voice was disbelieving and frankly, Sam couldn't fault him for it.

"Yes. See, God was hiding out on earth pretending to be a Prophet of the Lord. When we met him, he was posing as a drunk, hack writer down on his luck. He was writing the Supernatural stories about us. The angels called them the Winchester Gospels. And he published them. So other people have read about our lives and they pretend to _be_ us because they don't know that's all real. Tell me you wouldn't be weirded out by that?"

"Gods a drunk huh? Why am I not surprised?"

"Seriously? That's what you got out of that?"

"Sam, I got a lot of things out of that. That's just where I started." Jack pushed open the door and lifted his long legs out of the small car and stretched with a relieved sigh. "God that feels good. This car is gonna kill us!"

Sam joined him, slamming his own door shut. "Kill _me_ , maybe, you'll just come back." Jack gave a considering look and a shrug before following Sam across the lot and into the store. "So what are we looking for?"

"Not sure. I'll know it when I see it."

"Are you serious?"

"Not if I can help it, no." Sam experienced one of the longest hours of his life following Jack around the store with a cart as the randomly picked things off shelves and dropped them in. Mostly small stuff, though there were some metal rods as well. At some point he realized they had no tools to work with so he went and kitted himself out with a lot of that as well, all while ignoring Sam's questions of what he was going to do with it all.

It was a very frustrating hour for Sam. Followed by a search for an electronics store and an even longer and more expensive trip for supplies, and still Jack refused to talk about what he was doing. They drove back out to the edge of town and grabbed a motel room, Jack and Sam lugging in every single purchase until the room was littered with all the shit he'd bought. Sam glared. Grabbing his laptop, he headed for the door.

"Since you won't exactly tell me what you're up to, I'm off to do some research at the library. Call me when you want to figure out something for dinner and we can meet up at the diner or I can bring something back for you." Jack waved a hand negligently at Sam, already absorbed in what he was doing. With another roll of his eyes, Sam left and took the car back towards the middle of town and the small library it boasted.

Sam wound up spending hours at the library trying to find out more about the ghost haunting that they'd attempted to take care of, only to find out that that it had already been taken care of. But not one single person could remember anything out of the ordinary, any strangers at all, being in the vicinity. His stomach rumbled and he leaned back, stretching his longs arms behind and above his head, hearing his spine pop at the stretch.

 He was getting too old for this. Yet another reason to train a new legacy of Hunters. He and Dean were pushing 40 now, with Dean getting ready to tip over that line, and eventually, no matter how hard they tried, their physical abilities would start to slack off. And if they were dealing with anything other than supernaturally fast or strong beings, that wouldn't be an issue. But their bodies were too banged up over the years, though he supposed both he and Dean had gotten a fresh slate after their stints in Hell and subsequent raisings.

He reached over and shut down his laptop, stowing it away in his backpack. Walking to the door, he pulled out his cell and checked to see if he'd missed any calls. Nothing. Making his way back to the car, he dialed the burner he'd left with Jack and waited for him to pick up. It rang longer than he'd expected and he wondered if something had happened or if he'd just gone to sleep, but then a click came over the line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack. I’m done at the library. I was going to head to the diner for food. Want to come?"

"Always."

"Jack."

"What?" He tried to sound innocent but failed. Sam's glare was useless against the phone, but he couldn't stop the automatic response, ingrained from basically his entire life spent with and around his brother. There was a sigh from the other end. "No sense of humor. Fine. Sure, I'm game for some diner food and disgusting coffee."

"All right. I'll see you in five." Sam hung up and slung the bag carefully into the backseat, leaving the front open for Jack. Fifteen minutes later found them both seated at a booth in the only diner in town, the 66 Diner, closing in just under an hour. Jack looked around at the 1950's décor as a waitress handed them menus.

"It's got a real authentic feel to it."Jack mused. Sam looked up and around and shrugged. Jack probably would know, he supposed, having been around at the time.

"Welcome to the 66 Diner – we're known for our burgers, blue plate specials and our milkshakes. What all can I interest you in?"

"Um, we'll start with a couple of coffees I guess." Sam ventured, looking down and opening his menu. "Any recommendations?"

"Well, personally, I like the wets with the fried chicken sandwich, but there're a lot of yummy things here and it can by mighty hard to choose."

"Hmm…could we have a minute?"

"Sure thing." She gave them both a bright smile and walked away with her pad. Sam frowned at the menu. His brother would have loved this place. There wasn't much in the way of things he should be eating. His eyes kept drawing away from the sparse salad selection and checking out the burgers.

"It's weird."

"What's weird?"

"Well, I just, always thought the word diner was synonymous with 'all night', at least in America anyway. This place closes at 11."

"Yeah, some places alng this route close even earlier."

"Why?" Sam looked up at Jacks question, though the man's attention was on his own menu.

"Why? Well, route 66 is more a historical road trip sort of thing these days. Not a lot of travel along it. I guess some of the smaller towns probably can't support places that stay open all night when they're bound to be empty 90% of the time." Jack looked up and nodded.

"That makes sense." Having made their decisions, they closed their menus. The nearly empty diner was a boon to them as their waitress had obviously been watching for some sort of visual cue to come back over after having dropped off their coffees first thing. Sam behaved and got himself the grilled chicken salad but Jack, with his ability to be able to _not_ worry about cholesterol killing him, went crazy with his order. At least _he_ had an excuse, cause Dean sure didn't. If Cas wasn't around, Sam was certain his brother would eat himself into an early grave with all the bad for you food he gorged on. Sam still shuddered when he saw the Fiesta burger set down before Jack. Jesus.

Before long, both of them stuffed to the gills, they headed back to the motel where Sam found the room to be a disaster. There were tools and electronics and partially built things spread out all over the room, including both beds.

"What the hell are you making?" Sam crossed to the bed he'd claimed as his own and picked up the partially built device that seemed to be about as big as his hands had a few antennas pointing off it. "Is this an EMF reader?"

"Nah, it's more complicated than that. Your EMF only registers spectral manifestations indigenous to this planet.  And power lines. This thing is a poor spaceman's tricorder. I think we've run into something else here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not sure your haunting was a ghost, exactly. But if I did my job right, I can use this to figure it out."

"If you did your job right?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm working with outdated technology here."

"Jack, all this stuff is, well maybe not state of the art but it's not outdated."

"Sam, I'm from hundreds and hundreds of years in the future. I landed on Earth, in the past, multiple times, on accident. Or other peoples designs. Either way, doesn't matter. To me? This is outdated. I've seen human tech from the future that outstrips this by a lot. And don't even get me started on Alien tech. I'm working with a handicap here Sam and I don't have access to anything right now. I'm doing the best I can with what I've got. I'm sure you can understand that." Sam thought back to the time his brother had made an EMF reader of a walkman and nodded.

"Yeah, I get that. So what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking alien. Maybe a cross dimensional sighting. There could be a rift here, like the one that existed in Cardiff. We had to put all sorts of monitoring equipment on that. And if there is  a rift here, some might have seen the TARDIS."

"Why's that?"

"Because the Doctor uses the space time rifts as fuel. With Gallifrey gone, he's cut off from the home power source. And Earth, for some reason, seems to abound with these. It's one of the many reasons he keeps coming back."

"Faire enough. Hey um, the Doc didn’t much talk about his past when we met him, no matter which version we talked with."

"Don't bother asking." Jack looked up. "He doesn’t really. I don't know much myself. He's old. Set in his ways – which changes when he regenerates, but not always. I know he's got some archenemies like Davros and the Daleks, and this guy called the Master." Sam shuddered and Jack caught it. "I see you've heard of him?"

"Heard of him? Apparently we went up against the guy some time ago. Gabriel dues ex machina'd our way out of that one."

"Nice. Would that we had that kind of muscle on our hands the last time we met up with him. From what I hear, he's gotten close to taking over or destroying the Earth more than half a dozen times. You guys stopped the Supernatural Apocalypse multiple times, and the Doc has stopped several space style Apocalypses."

"Yeah, I think I read up on some of them in the Men of Letters journals. Anything out of the ordinary got documented, though most of it was attributed to unknown supernatural beings."

"When in doubt. The biggest difference between a supernatural being and an alien, is their birthplace." Jack noted. Sam carefully put the half built device on the chair across from the bed and started removing other components from his bed.

"That’s pretty much what Dean said."

"Oh?"

"you two could really get along – if you stopped hitting on his husband. He's a jealous man when it comes to Castiel."

"Jealousy usually means someone's hiding some insecurities."

"It's Dean. I wouldn't be surprised if he was, but hell if he'd tell anyone. Mr. Macho – I'm not allowed to have feelings – Dean. He's gotten better though, since Cas. I'm really proud of him." Jack started laughing.

"Really? I guess I should have known. Okay, I can't promise anything, but I'll try to tone it down around your brother and his husband. Not, you know, in general, just my remarks to them specifically."

"You're really incorrigible, aren't you?"

"Hey Sam, can I use your laptop?" Gathering up his clothes to change for bed, Sam froze and stared at Jack suspiciously. "I promise not to look up porn. Cross my heart." Jack rolled his eyes with a put upon sight. Sam nodded finally.

"No porn or other questionable sites, then fine. You can use it. Password is fuckoffdean. What? He kept stealing my laptop and I kept seeing shit I really didn't want to see."

"Why didn't you just get a second laptop?"

"We did, eventually. Actually, there's three now because Cas likes cat blogs and he can get lost on that thing for hours looking at them. It's not like he needs to sleep. Hey, do you actually need sleep? It's not like going without is gonna kill you, right?"

"Well…no, it won't kill me. And my body does repair certain side effects on the regular. But its' easier on me and my body if I just let myself sleep - and eat for that matter - when I can. I just don't need to do it quite as often or as urgently as other people do. But if I get sleep deprived enough, sure, I'll start hallucinating just like any other person denied REM sleep."

"Huh, that's really fascinating. How much have you tried to do with, with all that?"

"Trust me, Torchwood ran me through the ringer when they first picked me up. I was exactly the kind of thing they were worried about – only I wasn't actually doing anything to put anyone but myself in danger. But I was alien, and different and unexplainable. So they, uh, acquired me. Experimented on me, and eventually recruited me. Took me a while to gain their trust too."

"Let me guess, in the end you were running things?"

"You got it." Jack sent him a smirk as he set up the laptop on the table. Sam went ahead into the bathroom and changed quickly. When he finally got back out to the room, Jack was completely absorbed in whatever it was he was looking up. He called out a goodnight and turned off the lamp by his bed, stretching out under the covers, his feet pushing at the blankets to loosen up the end of the bed so he could stretch out and let his feet dangle off the end. The one downside to being so goddamned tall. Well, that and the short doorways in older houses. And the low hanging showerheads in motels. Sometimes he felt like a contortionist trying to fit into cars. Okay, so being tall wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but to lord it over Dean? Yeah, he could live with that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the mispost - i have no idea how chapter 6 of route 66 got added as chapter 19 of the original Colliding Worlds. I saw and fixed it quickly, but...still weird.


	7. In the Meantime...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is getting more and more frustrated (much to Jacks amusement) but what are Cas and Dean doing this whole time? Cause, you know, they're Winchesters, nothing ever goes _smoothly_ for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I"ve been working on this chapter off and on for the last few weeks. I actually managed to include a scene that was requested during the LAST story...hope everyone likes it.
> 
> Again, warning, this story is going to have the slowest updates ever _(okay, no, that's a like. *listens to husband rant about a fic he's been reading that hasn't updated in YEARS* no, never mind. I"m not that bad. yes, this took a little over a month to update, which compared to my other fic is DEFINITELY slower than slow, but not horrible either.)_ but again! I promise I have not abandoned it. It's just a little harder to write.
> 
> p.s. i wrote a lot of this while participating in the 1k1h 's that are being run on tumblr by [ Weekend-Writing-Marathon](http://captainawesomeellie.tumblr.com/weekend-writing-marathon)

"God damn it!" Sam slammed the car door shut as Jack got in on the other side a lot less aggressively. He remained quiet, allowing Sam to vent his frustrations from the last couple of weeks. The clunky meter that Jack had built was settled into his lap gently as Sam got the car moving. "Three times. Three friggin' times. In less than a week. We show up to what was obviously supernatural activity of sort – "

"Or alien." Jack helpfully supplied.

"-or alien, and its already taken care of! See? This is _exactly_ what I'm talking about! We need to get the network in place. We need to find more hunters and connect them. If there was already someone in this area taking care of things, than _we_ should have been going the opposite direction and taking care of _other_ things. We've wasted a week of our time!"

"Buuuuut?"

"But, on the other hand, this could be perfect. We _know_ someone is in the area, so if we could just catch up to him, or her, we could discuss our Hunter Initiative."

"I can't believe you're calling it that." Jack stared at Sam in astonishment. Already calming, Sam simply shrugged and put the car into drive.

"Dean named it."

"I should have guessed." Jack chuckled.

Two days later found them in yet another town along the old route 66. They'd found yet _another_ abandoned house - the route seemed littered with them - where rumors of strange happenings abounded. Only things definitely hadn't gone well for them.

Sam once again stormed out of the neglected house, having lost all patience. He reached the car and started slamming the trunk and the doors, stashing his gear away and jumping into the front seat, Jack not far behind.

"Stop laughing Jack."

"I can't help it. You've uh, got quite the fashion statement going on there." Sam rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Shit.

"Shit. I should have laid some plastic down on the seat first." Jacks laughter started up again at the defeated tone of Sam's voice.

"Oh, it's not _that_ bad Sam." Sam slowly turned his head towards Jack and glared.

"Oh, so, you don't mind being the one to clean it all up?"

"Well, I didn't say that."

"Then shut the fuck up Jack."

"God, what a foul mouth you have. I thought it was just your brother that was so foul. And ill tempered."

"Yeah, well, my brother raised me. I guess some things have just rubbed off on me, for better or for worse." He pulled into the motel lobby parking lot and angled to the other end, thankful they'd gotten an end room as per usual. He put the car into park and slammed the car door on his way out. Jack followed without a word, stepping past to slip the key in the lock. Once the door was open, the two of them wandered in and Jack and his weirdo device sat down at the table so he could work on it. Sam started picking feathers out of his hair. The sight seemed to make him pissy all over again.

"I mean, this is just, this is getting ridiculous!" Sam fumed. Jack lounged at the motel table, feet up on the wooden surface and crossed at the ankles. He fiddled with the device in his hands and didn't even bother looking up as he spoke.

"At least your mystery hunter didn't come along ahead of you and solve it."

"That's because there was nothing to solve." Sam hissed at Jack while he dripped slowly on the floor. "That's because it was an abandoned building some stupid teens turned into their playhouse. Seriously? The place was one long series of booby traps!"

"Hey don't look at me. I would have thought you'd be more careful opening doors after the first bucket fell on you." He finally looked up, giving Sam a cheeky little grin. "Except for the feathers I'd say you look good enough to eat."

"Laugh it up...it's no picnic being covered in maple syrup, honey and molasses. Molasses! How did they even...never mind. I need to get this mess off me." All the while he spoke, Sam was angrily and jerkily continuing to yank feathers off his now sticky and absolutely ruined clothes.

He soon gave up, grabbed his duffle and headed for the bathroom. He tossed it on the floor just inside the door and as he closed it he yelled

"And you better delete those fricken pictures!"

"Fat chance!" He heard vaguely through the door. "Never know when you're going to need Blackmail material."

Sam groaned and refrained for slamming his head on the door as he stepped out of his clothes and got the shower running. He was gonna have to toss these. There was no saving them. He sighed. At least it wasn't the fed threads.

*****

Dean and Cas motored away from the hotel, leaving Jack and Sam behind. They'd been on the road a mere few hours, taking it easy, when Dean's phone rang. He groaned, dug it out of his pocket and tossed it at his husband.

"I knew I forgot something. Tell Sam to fuck off, we've got plans." Cas picked up the phone off where it had landed on his lap and answered it.

"Hello Sam." He listened for a few seconds, and then abruptly disappeared. Dean rolled his eyes. Cas was back quickly, so it was obviously not an emergency.

"Okay, first things first. Power that thing off. Secondly, what the hell did he want?"

"He left his bag in the trunk."

"Ah…dumbass." Dean shook his head with a fond snort. Castiel set about turning off both their phones. "And you uh, you got the whole –" Dean waved at his head vaguely, "Y'know, praying thing covered, right?"

"Yes, Dean. Gabriel will intercept all my prayers unless it is of the utmost urgency."

"Sure that's a wise idea? I mean, Gabriel."

"It'll be fine, Dean."

"Right, right." They drove in silence for a short time, the low playing radio and the hum of the Impala the only sounds as Castiel enjoyed the scenery. "Still…I kinda wish I could see the confounded look on Sam's face when he tries to call you and gets Gabriel instead." Castiel turned away from the scenery to look at his husband disapprovingly. Dean's lips twitched as he tried not to look back. Hey, he was driving, he was being responsible. He couldn't keep a straight face for long though and started laughing, Cas also breaking down enough to add a few chuckles of his own in.

"Maybe we should ask Gabriel to take a picture?"

"Nah, I don't need to see it that much. We call your brother now and we'll never be rid of him."

"Dean, he's not that bad."

"Okay, maybe not, but you invite him in once, you know he's not going to leave till long after we want him too."

"He does have a habit of being contrary." Dean turned to his husband briefly with a "that's it exactly," look.

And they drove on. It was great. Driving at a leisurely pace, in no particular hurry to get to anywhere particular, at any specific time. Instead, Dean was playing it by ear. Thought they'd stop off at the Grand Canyon at some point, hit a few of the more famous route 66 diners. Drive through some of the more eclectic spots he and Sam had become familiar with over too many years of on the road traveling, and be able to take the time to show them off to Cas. It was…it was definitely not a place he'd seen himself in years ago.  He couldn't quite believe it sometimes. He reached a hand across the seat to grab Cas's hand, curling their fingers together reassuringly. This was real. Cas was real. How'd he ever get so lucky?

Dean was asking himself the same question later that night but with a completely different tone when the door of their motel room banged open. Letting out a shrill shriek he would later deny, Dean fell off the bed as he grabbed at the sheet to cover himself before realizing maybe that _wasn't_ the best reaction of finely honed hunter reflexes and he dropped the sheet and scrambled for the gun on the nightstand. Castiel sat up and glared at the intruder before turning to Dean.

"Stop, Dean. It's just the Doctor."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't shoot him, Cas. I mean, what kinda guy just barges in without knocking?"

"Oh, don't mind us. Just thought we'd pop in and say hi, seeing as we're in the neighborhood. Ooooh, I just remembered! You haven't met Rose yet. Say hello Rose."

"Hullo!" She grinned at the near naked forms of the hunter and his angel appreciatively. Dean still leveled the gun at them.

"Doc…there better be a global catastrophe going on, 'cause I don't exactly get many vacations and this one's kinda special." Dean growled.

"Sorry there Dean-o, didn't get that memo." The Doctor in the pinstriped brown suit sat at a chair and lounged. Dean stared. Cas took the gun out of his hands gently and laid it back on the table. Dean spluttered even as Cas helped him back up from the floor and onto the bed.

"Really. Bad. Timing." Dean gritted out finally. Cas reached out to sooth him, a hand on his shoulder and Dean turned to face him.

"Since we seem to be entertaining, perhaps it would be more appropriate to put on some clothes."

"Oh no, really, don't feel obligated on our accounts." Rose snickered. Dean turned to glare at her and then faced the completely and wholly unconcerned Doctor with a raised brow, the _'really?_ ' written all over his face. The Doctor shrugged. The hunter rolled his eyes, grabbed his bag and stalked into the bathroom, Cas close behind him. When they emerged a few moments later, fully clothed much to Rose's disappointment, Dean tossed his bag onto the bed and started gathering up the bits and pieces of scattered clothing and other odds and ends, what few there were, and packing them away.

"So…to what do we owe the dubious pleasure of this visit? Wait," he paused and looked at the Doctor again. "At what point are we seeing you?" Dean turned and looked at the Doctor. "I mean is this before or after – "

"Tut tut! None of that now! This is the first time I'm seeing you. Technically. I remember Stull, and Hell, and that’s about what I've got."

"Oh, oh fuck, so you don't know….oh, holy crap. So you haven't even been to the bunker yet or anything? Well, no wait, you were, you just didn't go inside the bunker. Crap, I hate time traveling."

Rose started to laugh. "Sounds like you know the doctor fairly well. How did that start?"

"He broke into the Bunker actually but he already knew us for a while by that point, I guess? It wasn't overly clear. The next week was a nightmare of different Doctors waltzing in and out and almost global destruction. But I guess I can't really talk about it?" Dean's voice had a questioning lilt to it.

"Not generally a good idea, no. Knowing too much of the future can sometimes alter it."

"But that's not always a bad thing. I mean, it's how we stopped the Apocalypse."

"Things don't always work out that nicely." The Doctor noted seriously. "Trust me, I'm over 900 years old and I've seen plenty. The history of the Time Lords is rife with examples of how knowing too much of the future can have detrimental effects. It's why we're forbidden from interfering."

"You interfered." Castiel noted in his low, gravelly voice.

"We-ee-ll," The Doctor waffled, waving a hand in the air. "I don't go out of my way to be interfering. It just sort of…happens." Rose snorted.

"So, is there a _reason_ you are interrupting our anniversary trip?" Rose's eyes widened and she slapped the Doctor on the shoulder. He made a face at her in mock pain.

"Oy! What was that for?"

"You didn't tell me they were married!"

"I didn't know! I mean, I knew they were together but actually married, married, we-eee-lll, it didn't really come up."

"Now wait a damn second – you knew we were husbands the very first time we met, you know, when you had the curly hair and that ridiculous scarf?!" The Doctor paused at Dean's words.

"Did I? Hmm…I must have forgotten. That was an awful long time ago. Maybe 3 or 500 years or meh…I rather lose track of the time."

Rose must have found that a little funny since she nearly doubled over laughing. Dean had to admit, a Time Lord losing track of time _was_ a little funny, but he was still a little too annoyed at being interrupted to let himself laugh.

"Are you going to answer us or what? Are you the King of Evasion or something?" Rose snorted again.

"Cor, he is _definitely_ the King of Evasion!" The Doctor gave her an affronted look and sniffed.

"We've been taking a historic trip of the old route 66." He said.

"Yeah, only he got the wrong time period - _again_. We were _supposed_ to land during its heyday." Dean shook his head.

"Yeah, well, you seemed to have overshot that by about 50 or 60 years or so. But there are still some historic things around. It's kinda part of what Cas and I had planned on doing."

"Oh, maybe we could join?" The Doctor dropped his feet and leaned forward in his seat. It was Rose's turn to roll her eyes.

"No, Doctor. If they're on a second honeymoon, that’s actually rather crass."

"Why?"

"Just, let's go." Rose grabbed an arm and pulled the Doctor up from the chair and towards the door. He went along easily but paused at the door to lean back in.

"We'll be around, if you change your mind!" He was yanked from view and a hand reached back to grab the knob and slam the door shut.

Dean and Cas stood there, stunned at the whirlwind that had just ripped through their hotel room. Well, perhaps ripped through was too strong a word but still…

"What just happened?"

"I believe we were visited by the Doctor."

"Yeah, yeah, he's like the ghosts of Christmas past, present _and_ future all rolled into one." Castiel rolled his eyes affectionately at his husband. "Now that he's gone, where were we…?" Dean leered at his husband, letting his words trail off.

They moved closer, arms reaching for the other, lips meeting eagerly - and the door slammed open once again. Rose stomped in as they lurched apart once more. Now she was glaring as she stomped over to the table and slumped into a chair, arms crossed over her chest, a frown on her face.

"God damn it!" Dean's shoulders slumped and he dropped his forehead to the angels' chest. He didn't whimper. He didn't. "Now what?"

"I'm stranded." Dean's head came back up, this time in concern.

"That doesn't sound like the Doctor." His husband voiced the words Dean was thinking."What happened?"

"I think it was the TARDIS, actually. We were coming up on the doorway and it slammed in my face before she took off. I don't think the Doctor was responsible though, but it hardly matters since now – "

"Since now you're stranded here. Wonderful." Dean sighed. "Do you have a phone at least?"

Rose nodded in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

"Let's exchange numbers, then I'll book you a room. Oh, and one of us should try calling him and find out what happened."

"I already tried that, he's not answering."

"Of course he isn't. Okay, you two stay here, I'll be back." Dean slammed out of the room and made his way down to the office, leaving the British girl with his husband. At least it didn't take long for another room to get booked. The place was practically a ghost town. He debated whether or not he should book her right next to the two of them. On the one hand, years of hunting instincts said stick close. On the other hand, she might not be appreciative of being their neighbor that night, and he wasn't about to curtail his anniversary trip or any of their activities just for her. He tried not to grin as he thought about what he and Cas would be getting up to. He didn't want to creep out the woman in the lobby helping him.

Snagging the key with a thankful smile, he quickly returned to his room and tossed the key at Rose as soon as he entered. She had moved to sit beside Cas on the bed as they talked and though she caught the keys easily, with barely a look, Dean had the feeling she wouldn't be leaving any time soon, too deeply caught in discussion with his angel. He refrained from sighing mournfully.

When Dean blearily opened his eyes that morning, Cas wrapped around him, he smiled and stretched slowly back into his husband. A sleepy murmur came from behind him and a kiss pressed to his shoulders before he detached. Dean groaned. What was the point of a vacation if you couldn't sleep in? But then he remembered Rose, stuck in the room next door, possibly stranded for who knew how long.

He sat up and watched his husband move about the room, picking up their once more discarded clothes. He smiled as he watched him. Castiel turned to look, tilting his head at Dean.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, Angel. I just, love watching you."

"I thought you said that was creepy?"

"I was referring to you watching me sleep and, well, I may have changed my mind about that, in regards to you, at least." Cas's face broke into a smile and Dean answered it before levering himself up off the bed. "I need a shower man; you uh…probably do too." Dean waggled his eyebrows and Cas rolled his eyes, as he so often found himself doing around the Winchesters, though they were filled with love.

"Perhaps you are right." The two of them disappeared into the bathroom, not even noticing that a couple of minutes later their motel room door had opened again. The Doctor had returned, yet not the one Rose would be waiting for, and he was accompanied by a red haired woman. They looked around the room, while she gave the bow tied Doctor a look.

"No, I'm certain of it. I mean, it's been a while, I think. A few years I guess? But I'm pretty sure a few of my friends are staying here at this time." He stepped in closer and started picking through things.

"Doctor, I really don't think you should be doing that, I mean, that’s somebody _else's_ things."

"Aha!" The Doctor yanked out a blue tie and an AC/DC shirt. "It's definitely them."

"You don't really know that. Those are both common, everyday items. How can you be so sure?"

"Because, Pond, their car is parked right outside."

"Then why are you going through their st – what's that sound?" Amy Pond turned her head towards the bathroom and listened for a moment in the silence that ensued before she whirled around and started pushing the Doctor out of the room with wide eyes. "Lord, Doctor, I really think we need to get out of here."

"Why?"

"Because they don't know we're _in_ here. And they might not appreciate coming out to find us here when they're obviously having an _intimate_ moment." She hissed at him.

"If you say so." He tossed the articles of clothing he had pulled from the bag over his shoulder and followed her out the door.

"So which one is their car? Wait, let me guess. It's easily recognizable, so it's got to be that one!" She pointed at the black muscle car parked almost directly in front of the room. The Doctor clapped his hands together and pointed at her with an approving _aha_ sound, confirming her guess.

A door behind them opened and Rose stepped out, closing it quietly behind her. She barely glanced at the two of them before stepping up to the room they had just vacated and knocking. Amy glanced over and hummed, waiting for the Doctor to make a move, but when she turned to face him, she found him stunned, sadness etched across his face.

"Doctor, are you all right?" Amy turned to face him fully but he didn't respond to her. He moved past her, Amy's' gaze following as he did and noticing that the blonde had spun about to face him, jaw dropping.

"Doctor?" she asked, voice breaking.

"Rose! It's…it's good to see you." The Doctor managed to get out. "Um, Rose, I'd like you to meet Amy Pond. Amy, this is Rose Tyler." It was now Amy's turn to gape.

"Rose? You're the infamous Rose?"

"Infamous?" Rose stepped closer to them, breaking her gaze from the stranger in front of her – the stranger she thought she knew, once upon a time – to the actual stranger that was with him. New face, new companion. Had she been replaced? Did she mean that little to him?

"Well, he never stops talking about you." The redhead introduce as Amy noted. Rose immediately recognized the accent as Scottish and wondered if the two inside would even be able to tell the difference between Amy's Scottish accent and Rose's own Cockney one. They were American after all. Well, Dean was, she supposed. She hadn't been able to figure out what Castiel was, but he wasn't human, that was for sure. Her mind spun off on tangents as it tried to process what was happening right now.

"Is that right? You mean he didn't just dump me here and take off for parts unknown?"

"Rose! I would _never_ \- !"

"You did it to Sarah Jane."

"That was an accident. I honestly thought I'd brought her home and I was a little rushed at the time, if I recall correctly." He turned to Amy, "Bit of an emergency recall back on the home planet."

"Does the TARDIS _ever_ work right?" Amy questioned.

"Yes." The Doctor attempted to say as Rose disagreed with him at the same time.

"No. And I'm proof of it right now. Doctor, your TARDIS just slammed the door shut on me and took off without me! What the hell happened?"

"Well, I can't tell you that…but I _can_ tell you that I come back for you. As soon as I am able to."

"And how long will that be? Before or after…this?" Rose gestured at him. "Are you…even still my Doctor anymore? How much have you changed?"

"I'm still _me_ Rose, just a little different."

"But do you even - ?" She gulped, her eyes were heartbreaking to look at as she read his answer in his face and Amy had to turn away, wondering exactly what Rose had been to him, what he had been to her? Had it been mutual?

The door of the motel room they had just vacated opened and all three of them turned as Dean and Castiel exited with their bags. They froze momentarily at the sight of the trio before them. Dean's mouth dropped when he saw Amy, his face paling as if he'd seen a ghost – which was quite a feat since Dean Winchester wasn't normally fazed by something as simple as a ghost these days. But then he noticed she was sitting on the hood of Baby and his mouth snapped shut and frowned.

"Ahhh! Good morning Dean! Good morning Cas-tiel! And how are you two this fine morning?" The Doctor rather enthusiastically pronounced. It pulled Dean out of his shock and he turned a glare on him.

"What the hell is going on? Is the world in danger or not? Because I'm still trying to take that vacation I told you about when you showed up last night with Rose. Who – I might add – you abandoned here!"

"Not on purpose! It's –" He stopped and turned away. "I'll be back for Rose. Not me now, of course, but the other me, then. I can't change this, and I can't tell you what happened or why."

"Fucking time travelers man. I hate all of you." Dean stomped away and popped the trunk, stowing his and Cas's bags away before slamming it down again. "We're going to find a diner for breakfast. Since Rose is coming with us anyway until the other you decides to bring his merry ass back here for her, the two of you might as well come along." He said with some resignation. Castiel patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, approval in his eyes. Dean sighed and made a move for the driver's seat.

Amy sidled up to the Castiel and leaned in, talking out of the corner of her mouth as she kept an eye on everyone else around her. "What _exactly_ did we interrupt? He seems rather upset."

"That's just Dean. But, to be fair, we were on an anniversary vacation, as he already mentioned. We don't get many vacations in general and this was supposed to be special."

"Oooooh." Amy said sympathetically. "I'd be pissed too. The Doctor doesn't get it I guess. His um…marriage is a little less than traditional for these parts."

"The Doctor is married?" Rose sounded horrified as she broke into their conversation. "Who did he…?"

"Oh, uh," Amy froze for a second, giving Rose a searching look. "Another time traveling woman…it’s a really weird situation." Cas put a hand on her arm and shook his head. The Doctor bounded up to him, all gangly and energetic, clapping his hands together again and then rubbing them.

"So, what are talking about over here? Everyone getting to know one another, yeah?"

"You could say that, I guess." Rose bit out and stalked away towards the Impala and Dean. Without asking, she yanked open the passenger side door and grabbed shotgun. Castiel blinked. He supposed he should have expected that, with as angry as the young woman seemed to be with the Doctor.

He looked back at the Doctor, trying to gauge _why_ she was that angry. This seemed to go a little beyond being stranded, especially since he'd assured her he was coming back for her. He would know, wouldn't he? Being a time traveler and all, he'd already have a memory of doing it. So there must be another reason she was upset. But staring at the Doctor gave him no clues. In fact, the Doctor gazed after her, just as confused as the rest of them.

"Whatever is the matter, do you think?"

"Don't know. I think she's mad at you." Amy stared at Rose then turned back to the Doctor."What did you do, Raggedy Man?"

"Nothing! Yet!" He protested. Castiel walked away and climbed into the back behind Dean. Settling into his seat, he reached forward to grip his husbands shoulder briefly, ducking forward quickly to drop a kiss on his cheek. Deans face softened a little, casting him a small smile before Castiel droped back and Dean leaned his head out the window. Angling to look behind him at the gangly doctor and Amy, he called out impatiently.

"Look, if you're going to ruin this trip, just get in the goddamned car. We're not waiting for you, got it?" He pulled his head back in and caught a grin from Rose. The other door opened in a rush and Amy slid toward the center, the Doctor squeezing in beside her. Dean wasted no time in pealing out of the lot.

The Doctor stumbled into the diner behind the other four. Amy was pale but grinning. Rose was smug. Dean and Castiel were unaffected. Well of course they were. It was Dean's actions that had caused the Doctor to have a mildly upset stomach to begin with, so obviously he wasn't affected. And then of course, the Angel wasn't likely to be affected by the Winchesters insane driving either, even if he wasn't already used to it. The Doctor couldn't help but think this was some sort of payback.

Quite frankly, he was surprised his stomach was upset at all. After all, he was used to weird and crazy racketing about in his TARDIS. He'd jumped dimensions multiple times. Been thrown to the ends of the universe. This should have been _nothing_! It hadn't even been operating on 3 dimensions of space, much less the added fourth dimension of _time_. Now if they'd been flying…then again, some of those hills they took, he wasn't entirely certain they hadn't been. And that was what was making him queasy.

Breakfast was a strained affair. Small talk abounded, but Rose refused to speak to him. That hurt. He hadn't seen Rose in almost forever. It was amazing how much of an impact she'd had on his life in the brief time he'd known her. Getting to see her again? This was like a breath of fresh air for him and he…couldn't even take part in it, enjoy the moment. He knew what lay ahead for Rose. The heartache she would be forced to endure. But he also knew the joy she'd find, without him. Or with him, depending on your point of view. He should be happy for her. He'd moved on.

Or, he thought he had.

The Doctor didn't stick around long after that. They got caught up at the diner – he hadn't been lying, there was no real reason they were in the area, just looking for a bit of fun – and then he pushed them along on their merry way. The other him wouldn't get there till after he left. So if he wanted Rose _not_ to be, well, mad at him, it was best he facilitate his – well, their, hers? – reunion.

Then again, he recalled suddenly, as he and Amy waved farewell from the door, when he had finally met back up with Rose at this time, she _had been_ a bit snippy with him, and never explained why. Well, now he knew.

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief as he watched the TARDIS depart. He turned to Rose.

"Well. Time to choose. Hitch a ride with us, and hope the Doctor can find you somewhere along the way, or we drop you some money, rent out your room for the next couple of weeks and let you stay here, since it'll probably be the first place he checks."

She stared at the space the TARDIS had occupied for a good five minutes trying to decide between the options. She hummed in acknowledgement before finally turning to them.

"So, what is it you all do again?" She grabbed each of their elbows and started walking with them back to their car. Dean's heart sank at the fact that they'd just pretty much lost their private time but perked back up when Castiel beamed proudly at him.

They climbed back into the Impala and got back on the road, but Dean couldn't help hoping it wouldn't take the Doctor too long to find them.

Even if he _did_ kind of like Rose.


	8. Incognito Archangel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's still stuck with Jack...and now he's at another Hunters funeral as emotional support. So someone explain to him again, why did they bring the Archangel along?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, SO sorry for those of you who are actually following this story, about how long it takes between updates. I know its been almost 3 months and most of my updates are much quicker than that. 
> 
> Thing is, I know what I want to do with this story and its been fighting me on how to get there. I have at least half a dozen other started stories I have not put up publicly because I A) don't like to have too many WIPS open at the same time and B) i try to make sure that a story is pulled together and plotted enough that I can risk putting a WIP up. 
> 
> So far that's worked, but this one tricked me. the first few chapters flowed so easily, i had no idea it would start to give me problems. 
> 
> That does not mean i'm abandoning it! I'm going to keep working on this (i just regret putting it up as early as I did). I promise it WILL be finished, and considering it's the only open WIP I have (and I do have some other very large stories) I think you can take me at my word.
> 
> In the meantime - Yes, I _am_ working on other projects:
> 
>   * I've finished up a 66k story for the CBB. it's going through a final (i hope) Beta and then it'll get posted later this year. It's already begging for a sequel. 
>   * I just put up art for the SPN AU BB
>   * I'm in the middle of making art for the Dean/Cas PineFest (which i think is due at the end of this month)
>   * I'm in the middle of working on some art for an original piece by Unforth (i completely finished an entire pic today) - hoped for deadline, also the end of this month
>   * I'm starting pictures for the SBB (deadline also this month i think? EEEP)
>   * I am halfway through a picture for the Destiel Reverse BB (where you make the art first and someone writes a story for the picture!! That is SO COOL! I can't wait to see what happens!)
>   * And I've also joined up with FormidablePassions for the SPN MB to do art for her fic. that has a longer lead time so I already finished 1 small and 1 big pic for her and now i'm going to set it aside to work on the other things due before it.
> 

> 
> Too. Many. Things.  
> But i'm still here, and i'm still writing.
> 
> thanks for sticking with me, and with this story!  
> Please let me know if you're enjoying this, or if you're okay with small delays between updates as long as the story is finished. *crosses fingers*

"Okay, I'm certain there  _was_  something here, but now there isn't."

"Again, not a bad thing Sam, less work for us." Jack was tinkering again and Sam rolled his eyes, pushing past Jack who’d angled his chair directly in Sam’s way as he entered the motel, a coffee carrier and a fast food bag in his hand.

"Pay attention, Jack. I think you're going to want to hear this, 'cause I think it was the Doctor." Sam noted smugly that Jacks boots hit the ground with a thud as he straightened up in his seat.

"You know you can't just  _do_  an internet search on the Doctor, right? He regularly wipes all data of himself right off the net."

"You can't really erase anything off the net." Sam eyed Jack with a disbelieving look.

"You can with the right technology. And I mean, sure, that doesn't count for anything that got printed out in hardcopy between times, but yeah, trust me, you're not going to find him on the world wide web."

"Well, good thing I wasn't looking there anyway." Sam noted with another smug tone and a twitch of his lips. It was Jacks turn to raise an eyebrow, this time in question as he stared at Sam, willing him to talk.

"Okay, so get this…" Sam started. Jack refrained from snorting.  He'd never known that  'catch phrases'  could be a thing in real life, but he was pretty sure this one was Sam's. "I've been talking with some of the locals, and a few of them remember seeing the TARDIS around town.  Not that they knew what it was, but, for something that’s supposed to be able to camouflage itself, it doesn’t do a very good job at remaining inconspicuous."

"Yeah, I think he likes it that way. The chameleon circuit busted a long time ago and the Doctor has a tendency to throw out the manual. I think he's done it more than once, actually."

"I heard something about that from my brother. Didn't he toss it into a supernova because it pissed him off?" Sam sat down on the bed, trying not to let his long legs tangle with Jacks. Something he was long used to and adept at doing from being around Dean so long.

"Something like that." Jacks answer was as nonchalant as his shrug.

"He didn't strike me as someone with all that much of a temper." Sam pressed.

"He has his moments. Besides, from what I understand, it was more of a fit of pique then actual temper." Jack was trying his damndest to keep from smirking.

"Ah, well, that sounds about right, I guess." Sam conceded. He opened his mouth to continue when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID.

“It’s Jody,” Sam said, answering it quickly and tapping the speaker phone icon, “Hey, everything all right?”

“Not really, no. You guys ever hear of Asa Fox?”

Less than an hour – and one prayer later - Sam, Jack and Jody were standing in front of a two-story house in Canada, the two taller men almost obscuring the third man in their midst. Gabriel dropped his arms, letting go of Jack and Jody and stepping forward. Sam’s hands slipped off Gabriel’s shoulders at the movement.

“So…that’s Angel Airways?” Jody pulled in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Yup.” Sam answered.

“Now I know why Dean prefers to drive.” She shook her head and walked towards the house. Gabriel went to follow her but stopped when Sam placed a hand back on his shoulders.

“Aw, Sammy, I knew you loved me,” the archangel grinned at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes and removed his hand, having accomplished what he set out to do – stop Gabriel. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, in…there?” Gabriel waved at the house, giving Sam a look that clearly meant, “Duh.”

“Into a house _filled_ with hunters? Are you insane?” Sam hissed, looking around to make sure they were still alone.

“What? I’ll go incognito!” Gabriel pulled a baseball cap out of nowhere and placed it on his head.

“You really think something like that is going to work?” Sam pinched his nose.

The archangel snapped his fingers and pointed at the taller man. “You’re right! I’m totally missing something.” Snapping his fingers again, a pair of thick, black framed glasses appeared on his face. The archangel grinned proudly, his grin getting wider when he noticed how hard Jack was fighting back a smile of his own.

Sam sighed, “Fine, do whatever you want. But don’t cry for me when you’re trapped in a ring of holy fire.”

“What happened to all that heavenly faith, bucko?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at Sam. Jack continued to watch the exchange silently. He still wasn’t talking to Gabriel unless he had to.

“It flew out the window when I found out Heaven was populated by dicks.” Sam started moving and Jack moved with him. They passed Gabriel and Sam paused again, “Look, we appreciate the lift, Gabe. Jody was pretty distraught and she didn’t want to come alone. Just…that _is_ a house filled with hunters – “

“You already said that, Sam. I’m an archangel, I think I’m pretty safe.”

“- and while they might not actually be able to kill you, they can sure as hell make your life miserable. They could trap you here. They could come after us for being associated with you. Any number of scenarios. I haven’t met too many tolerant Hunters.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” Gabriel said, unusually serious. Sam nodded and turned away. Entering the house, they found Jody in the foyer waiting for them.

“What took you boys so long?” she whispered.

“We were…negotiating.” Sam said tiredly, looking pointedly at Gabriel. Gabriel was looking around with a frown, running his fingers down the closest wall and ignoring them all. Sam shrugged and left him be. Jody turned and led the three of them through the foyer and to the first room. Before they entered it, the level of noise making it clear it was filled with people, an older woman with large glasses and a drink in her hand met them in the hall.

“Jody!”

“Lorraine!” Jody wrapped the other woman in a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about Asa.”

“No more than I am,” Lorraine sniffed, let herself feel the comfort in Jody’s hug and then pulled away, “We’ve got a lively bunch of hunters here today and plenty of booze. Sometimes I think the two go rather hand in hand. And who are you fellas? Have we met?”

“Ah, no ma’am, I’m Sam, this is Jack and that’s Gabriel. I’ve…only ever heard stories about Asa. He was amazing and we just, when we heard about him from Jody, we just wanted to pay our respects.”

“That he was, that he was. Thank you. Feel free, go in, mingle, tell tall tales.” She turned away a little shakily to face Jody again as Gabriel wandered off, still trailing a hand over the walls with narrowed eyes.

Stepping away to give Jody and Lorraine privacy, Sam angled closer to the entranceway to the next room. Neither Lorraine, nor the noise level, had lied. It was filled with people, many who he would easily peg as being hunters, a few others that he would never have suspected. But filled. The room was filled, and it was likely that other rooms in the house were as well.

Sam stared in wide eyed shock.

“I don’t understand,” Jack said softly.

Sam sighed, “Understand what?” though as Sam watched a man leave the room to cross the hall into another, he was fairly certain exactly what Jack meant. Sam and Jack stood inside the house of Asa Fox, a hunter Sam and Dean had heard of over the years but had somehow never met, and stared at the mass of other hunters Sam and his brother hadn’t even known existed.

“That list you gave Garth, were any of these people even on it?” Jack watched Jody as she talked quietly with Asa’s mother who confirmed that the rest of the mourners were hunters.

“No, they weren’t,” Sam answered. “I don’t recognize _any_ one here.”

“Really?” Jack’s voice was covered in disbelief.

“I didn’t even know Asa was still around. We haven’t heard any  _new_ stories in a while, and a life as insane sounding as his? Dean and I figured that surely, he’d be dead by now. Nobody’s luck holds out against odds like that over and over again. Ours certainly didn’t. It’s not exactly normal for hunters to be brought back from the dead the way Dean and I have been, and it’s only because other…supernatural entities had a vested interest in our still being around that we actually are.”

Sam stepped aside to make room for new mourners’ entering the house and Jack moved with him. He ran his hand through his shoulder length hair, “To be honest, Jack, we’ve always been a bit isolated from the rest of the hunting community. We knew who our dad knew, and later, we met others through Bobby, though not everyone. And Dad, well, dad kept a lot of secrets and burned a lot of bridges over the years. Everyone else we knew personally just…died. We gained a reputation and, folks that were left…well, you heard what Cesar and Jesse said when I brought up the plan.”

Jack nodded. “But they also sounded pretty enthusiastic about it, and they’ve defended you guys, so it sounded. So, Jesse and Cesar said they’d contact their old hunting buddies, right?”

“Yeah, but most of them are based in Mexico and points further south. Those places seem to be locked down fairly well. No major catastrophes, solid teams and all. But with all the shit that’s’ been happening up here the last decade, the North American community’s been decimated. Frankly, I had no idea there were even this many of us left.”

“You really were cut off,” Jack said in horror. Sam just shrugged. “So, what’s the plan now? Do a little networking while you’re here?”

“Kind of? I mean, I want to at least get some contact info for folks, but this is a funeral. Neither the time nor the place. Once I know how to reach people, new hunters, I can pitch it another time, that’s the easy part.”

Having already greeted Asa’s mother, the two of them drifted through the house, sticking together, though Jody stayed in view, mingling with others she obviously knew. Gabriel was no longer in sight and Sam wondered if he should be worried. In the meantime, he walked around, meeting one hunter after another. Everyone they talked to attempted to hide their surprise or awe – sometimes both – at meeting a Winchester, but strangely, most didn’t act like it was a bad thing.

“You’re looking a little shell shocked there, Sam. Didn’t know  _anything_ phased a Winchester.” Sam wasn’t sure of the name for the male twin, but he thought it was Max.

Sam shook his head. “It’s just, you know, between my dad and hunters like Gordon, or Roy and Walt, I always thought we weren’t welcome. Me and my brother Dean, I mean…”

“Good lord, those hunters were the old guard, man. Shoot first, ask questions later kind. We avoided them at  _all_ costs. I mean, Gordon? Probably would have shot us dead on sight. Wouldn’t care how much good we’ve done,” Max snorted.

“Because you’re both witches?” Jack leaned forward giving Max an interested look.

Max grinned right on back while his sister rolled her eyes with an indulgent smile, “Exactly, cause those guys? They only ever saw in black and white…”

The sister leaned forward, concern in her eyes as she looked at Sam and spoke, “Is that why we never saw you or your brother? I mean, we’re recluses sometimes, but we still get together. Pair up for hunts, meet up for funerals, trade gossip, stories, new lore, pass on the old lore to the newbies…we’re out there but…” She looked away. It was evident she was trying to hold something back.

“But what?” Sam pressed.

“We always thought you Winchesters were avoiding us because you were too good for us or some shit.” Someone else called out from across the room. The female witch winced but nodded sadly at Sam. Alicia, that was her name.

Sam blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair again. “God, as if…Gordon thought I was the anti-christ, tried to kill me more than once. Roy and Walt blamed me for the Apocalypse…which, well, they weren’t wrong but…it wasn’t exactly on purpose. I mean, killing demons is a  _good_  thing, right? I had no idea it was the final straw…but they hunted my brother and I down to kill us too. It seemed like, nearly every time we ran into other hunters, they hated us…” Sam swallowed and looked at the room full of hunters, each one trying not to appear as if they were hanging on his every word, “There were very few who ever wanted to work with us – Ellen and Jo, Bobby and Rufus, Garth, a few others.”

“Man, Bobby,”

“God, Ellen…” Several voices murmured Bobby’s name and Ellen’s, low and respectful.

“Bobby and Ellen were part of the old guard, but they were pretty rare creatures. Never made me feel unsafe to be around them. Trust me, they’ve both been missed.” Another hunter Sam hadn’t caught his name spoke up, a little older than the twins.

“Yeah, no one else had quite as much knowledge of lore as Bobby did…and Ellen was a great safe haven for a tired hunter. She also helped find us cases…” Alica noted, “Always found us some easy thing to get us started so we could get a little experience.”

“Yeah, they were a great asset to the hunting community,” Randy chimed in, helping Buck pass out beers. “Wish they were still around, or at least, others like them.”

“Well, you’re in luck!” Jack grinned, leaning back in his seat.

“Jack!” Sam hissed, “Not the time.”

“What do you mean not the time?” Jack gestured at the room at large, “Sounds like they’re looking for the very thing you’re proposing. So, how is it  _not_  the time?”

“What’s this?” the twins spoke the question in unison, which made Sam shiver a little. That was kind of cool and creepy at the same time.

“See, Sam here, he’s got this idea of starting up a new network for you guys. New Bobby’s and new Ellen’s and more than that. Only, he doesn’t think now is an appropriate time to talk about it.” Jack tossed out.

“What do you mean ‘you guys’?” Elvis asked.

“Aren’t you a hunter too?” Max asked next.

“Nah, not me.” Jack flashed another smile. Max visibly melted. Sam nearly snorted when he heard the sister muttering, “Oh, brother.”

“Then…why are you here? You don’t know Asa, you’re not a hunter…Wait are you and Sam…?” Max’s face looked disappointed as he asked.

“Nope, not together, though I wouldn’t be averse to it, nor am I averse to multiple partners,” Jack’s perpetual grin was back on his face. “Anyway, I’d say Sam saved my life, but actually, he’s helping me look for a way to end it.”

“Excuse me?” Elvis wasn’t the only one choking on his beer right now.

“Well, okay, I mean, I’m not suicidal, I just…I’m tired. And I don’t want to be stuck this way. I’ve already outlived way too many of the people I cared for, seen too much shit that cannot be unseen.” Jack’s voice was suddenly as tired as he’d hinted at, his face falling and his eyes old.

“How old  _are_ you?” Asa’s mother Lorraine had wandered in, drink held tightly in her hand.

Jack shrugged, “I lost count when a time traveler buried me alive somewhere in the Mesozoic era…or maybe it was the Triassic? You know, I wasn’t actually paying attention, I could be off a few eons. It was a long time ago…and I was a little preoccupied at the time with dying of suffocation over and over again.”

“ _What_ are you?”

“I can assure you boys – and gals - I’m not a monster. I’m not even from Earth,  _or_  from this century, though my ancestors  _were_  human. I’m something brand new – there ain’t anything else on this earth like me…” Jack waggled his eyebrows like it was something to be proud of, and knowing him, he was.  Sam covered his face with his hand. _Well, this was going well_. _At least no one had broken out the pitchforks yet._

“Time travelers,” A voice from the back of the crowded room scoffed, “You think we’re falling for this? You think we’re children to fall for obvious fairy tales like this?”

“To most of the rest of this world, monsters are fairy tales. What does that make you? Or the rest of us?” Max was staring at Jack with wide eyes, with barely a flicker of his eyes to the back for the room, his voice was low but he managed to be heard throughout the entire room. Whoever had dare to speak up before was staying quiet now, mulling over the question.

He wasn’t the only one. In fact, the room was the quietest it had been for the entire day. The rest of the house, still filled with other hunters, other mourners, still made noise, oblivious to the topic of conversation here. The secrets filling the room with nonsense just this side of unbelievable…but there was more than one person in the room who was daring to believe.

Finally, Jack leaned forward, “I feel like we’ve gotten a little off track here. See, I’m not who you need to be talking about right now. Sam is. He wants what you all want. He’s got some resources none of you have and he wants to share them out, make a real, honest to god community. Safe houses, training grounds, meeting places, knowledge repositories, and I can help. I’ve done this kind of thing before. Small scale, secret. What do you all say?”

Sam watched the room and felt hope growing. As hunters murmured at each other thoughtfully, more than a few with interest, he thought, just maybe, this could work.

Then Gabriel appeared at his side. “Did anyone notice the locking wards on the walls? Cause, house full o’ hunters, would think somebody would have made it impossible for a demon to walk through the front door.”

Gabriel’s words brought instant quiet and intense regard bearing down on the small man. Sam groaned and rubbed his face.

No, nothing ever went easy for a Winchester. He’d blame God, but he knew Chuck wasn’t really paying much attention to them, preferring to be hands off.

“Gabriel, you know as well as I do that the number of demons left above ground have significantly decreased. What are the odds one of them is here, now, in a house full of hunters?”

“You think I look like Threepio to you? I know I’m a golden god, but c’mon Sammy…” Gabriel smirked and unwrapped a lollipop, popping into his mouth. With smothered words, he continued to speak, “Besides, should you be talking to me, or figuring out which of your fellow hunters was dumb enough to let themselves get possessed. Cause, sure, I could take care of this but uh…I’d be just a tad overkill – emphasis on the kill.”

“Great,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Lorraine, how many people are left in the house?”

“Actually, everyone else left. You fellows are the last.” She spoke, eyes wide. Her son may have been a hunter, she may know about the life, but a hunter, _she_ was not. Lorraine gulped the last of her drink down and wished she’d had the foresight to start double fisting her alcohol.

“Right, well then, that makes things easier.” Sam turned back to Gabriel. “Can you point out the person who was possessed at least? Maybe wipe the wards off the walls?”

Gabriel shrugged and snapped his fingers. “Wards are wiped Sam, as for your demon…” he pointed at Elvis.

Everyone took a step or two away from the man who shrugged, his eyes turning black as he leered out at them all, “Guess the cats out of the bag…and you, I’m killing first.” He glared at Gabriel.

“Sure, good luck with that. Sam, unless you want me to kill the vessel, you might want to start on that exorcism,” Gabriel had barely finished the words when he heard Sam take up the Latin chant. Elvis lunged at him, but another hunter tackled the demon possessed man to the ground, allowing Sam to finish the rite.

Elvis coughed as the black smoke exited his mouth and slowly the other hunter let him up, then helped him into a sitting position. “Well, that was,” he coughed some more, “a little anti-climatic, perhaps, but who am I to complain. Just…uh, how the hell did you think you could kill a demon?”

“Easy, there are several ways to do _that,_ ” Gabriel popped the sucker out of his mouth and licked his lips. “At least one is even in the house right now.”

“We’ve found several ways,” Sam noted with a glare at Gabriel. He wasn’t all too sure the archangel should be saying anything that might bring attention back to him and make the others question some of what had already been said. They seemed a more tolerant bunch than hunters he’d had met in the past, but Sam still didn’t know any of them well enough to want to reveal Gabriel’s true nature to.

“Like what?” Alicia asked.

“Like the angel blade in the study,” Max reminded her.

“That, or the Colt. Also the demon blade – I mean, the knife of the Kurds, or the First Blade. Any of those would have worked.” Sam mentioned.

“Like any of those exist.” Buck scoffed.

“They do, and they work. We’ve done it. Though I don’t recommend that last. It actually comes attached to a curse. The _first_ curse, as a matter of fact.” Sam noted.

The hunters that were left started crowding a little closer, faces curious and questioning, but it was Max who spoke again,

“So, you wanted to talk us into joining the Avengers Initiative? Sounds like you might have something to back that up. Why don’t we talk?”

Jack barked out a laugh, “God, you hunters…the Avengers Initiative?”

“What’s so funny about that?” Lorraine, finally calm enough to speak, though her hands still shook as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid spilled and Gabriel stepped over and took it gently from her hands.

“Here, let me do that for you,” Gabriel said as he poured the whiskey and handed it back to her. Sam stared in surprise at the Archangel. This was a side he’d never seen of him before. He’d seen Loki, the trickster, and Gabriel, the Archangel, both brimming with over the top actions and blatant displays of power. When not being a BAMF, he was never serious. This, this gentle and caring side of him was not anything that Sam expected, and from the look on Jack’s face, neither had he.

Jack shook his head and cleared his throat, “Gabriel’s laughing because Sam’s brother Dean already named this the Hunter Initiative. Sound slightly familiar there anyone?”

The room laughed a little, shaking their heads. Alicia stood up to grab another beer for herself, but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “So when do we meet the infamous Dean?”

“More important things, Alicia!” Max called out. She turned to give him a look and Sam had déjà vu seeing the look she speared her brother with.

“Oh, like you weren’t just drooling all over Jack for the last hour? Give me a break, brother, besides, everyone knows where you see one Winchester, there’s usually another one right behind him.” She stepped out of the room, Max’s face turning a little red at her words. He gave Jack a sheepish look and Jack quickly joined him on the couch, leaning in close enough to touch shoulders.

“Hey there handsome…” Jack waggled his eyebrows at the witch and Sam sighed. All he ever did these days was sigh. And wonder how Jacks eyebrows were still attached to his face with all the excessive amounts of waggling he put them through.

Sam spent the rest of the night fielding questions and telling abbreviated stories of things that he and Dean had been involved with. Someone brought up the god damn “Winchester Gospels”, though they didn’t call them that (thank chuck for small favors) and it made Sam want to bang his head on the wall as his face burned in mortification.

“Look, yeah, pretty much everything in those books _did_ happen, but uh, the writer still took some liberties. Left out a bunch of things, put too much focus on other…um…more unimportant things.” Sam floundered and Gabriel stepped in helpfully,

“What he means, fella’s, is that the prophet of the lord tasked with writing about the lives of Sam and Dean decided to sell their stories to make a living because, apparently, being a prophet doesn’t get people much recognition these days. Aaaaaand to attract more readers, he maybe, might have added smut.” Gabriel smirked at Sam’s glowering face and lowered his voice to a whisper as he spoke to Alicia and Lorraine, though the entire room could still hear him quite clearly, “I would like to add, that if such a thing is up your alley – it’s 100% accurate.”

Sam buried his face in his hands.

“Chuck save me,” he muttered.

Chuck, as usual, didn’t bother to answer Sam’s prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I went to go back and rewatch the episode with Asa Fox....and i can't. CW is holding on to the first two episodes and the last three...so the ones between are...unavailable. which is weird, because i thought the first 2 would be knocked off.
> 
> I wanted to rewatch it so i would have names, (i had to keep googling to make sure i had them right) and so i could have Jody and Lorraines dialogue...but nope. that was, apparently, too much to ask. 
> 
> i mean, sure, i knew i was going to alter things, because this is a sequel to a story that i finished before season 11 even ended, so certain canon things can't happen with the way I've got it set up...but some things still could. *sigh*

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do some basic research for where rt 66 went and how long it would take to drive it, or to GET to it from the bunker and its already opened up some new ideas for me :D
> 
> it also inspired the title because i couldn't come up with ANYTHING. I might change it in the future, but let me know what you think of it? If you guys like it, maybe I'll keep it, even though I don't plan on it being an element of the ENTIRE story, it's certainly where the story starts so...*shrug*
> 
> *EDIT - I changed the title slightly. I think it works better this way*


End file.
